Secret No More
by redrider6612
Summary: Sequel to The Secret. Booth & Brennan have managed to keep the secret for six months, but when someone sees them together, the secret comes out with disastrous results. Smutterfluff galore! COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the sequel to "The Secret". I was aiming to make it a short three or four chaps, but my muse keeps throwing more ideas at me, so we'll see how it goes. Anyway, please R&R 'cuz I LIVE for reviews.**

Secret No More

Chapter 1

Angela breezed into Brennan's office early on Monday morning. Her friend was on the floor in front of the couch with a file spread all over the floor around her. Angela perched on the arm of the couch, careful not to disturb any of the papers.

"Morning, Sweetie," she said, getting a distracted smile in return. 'Maybe I should come back later,' she thought. She discarded that idea. She didn't want to wait. "Do you and Booth have anything planned for Friday night?" she asked quietly. Keeping the secret had become second nature, and so far only Hodgins had been brought into it.

Brennan looked up with a frown. "Why? Did you want to do something?"

Angela sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, silly, it's your six month anniversary," she said as though she shouldn't have to tell her.

The puzzled frown remained. "Of what?" she asked, struggling to keep up.

"You and Booth," Angela whispered as though that explained it all. She got a blank stare. "Six months ago Friday you and Booth finally hooked up!" she whispered louder, thinking maybe she couldn't hear her.

Comprehension dawned. "So? Are we supposed to do something?"

Another sigh. For a genius, Brennan could be very slow sometimes. "Yes, you go out to a nice restaurant, wine, dine and go home and make wild and passionate love. It's tradition," she insisted.

"Booth hasn't said anything about it," Brennan replied.

Another roll of the eyes. "Of course he hasn't. He's a guy. You have to remind him," she explained patiently.

Brennan looked skeptical. "Are you sure? I mean, it's not like we're married, Ange."

"It's tradition, Bren. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. Six months is a milestone these days."

Brennan shook her head, smiling. "I guess I'll talk to Booth, see what he wants to do. I still think it's ridiculous."

Angela smiled knowingly. "Sweetie, you'll see, you'll be thanking me come Monday morning."

They went to a charming little Italian restaurant that Booth had heard was great. Looking at her in the candlelight, Booth smiled. She looked so beautiful tonight. She was wearing a lovely deep purple dress and her hair waved softly to her shoulders. Her eyes were sparkling with amusement as she told him a story about Zach and Hodgins.

"Then Hodgins said 'Why don't you stick to your bones and I'll take care of the bugs and slime?' And Zach said 'You're threatened by my intelligence, aren't you?' and Hodgins said 'Not even close, Zach. I'd pit my brain against yours any day of the week,' which was funny, because Zach is a genius. I don't know what Hodgins I.Q. is, but I don't think…" Brennan trailed off as she noticed the dreamy look and slight smile on Booth's face. "You're not even listening!" she accused, mildly annoyed.

Booth straightened. "Not true. I heard every word," he lied, trying to remember what she'd been saying. "Go on," he urged.

She smiled a little, shaking her head. "Never mind, I don't remember. What were you thinking of?" she asked.

"You," he said, a smile cocking up a corner of his mouth. "You really look beautiful tonight, did I tell you that?"

Brennan felt her heart expand at the love in his eyes. "Yeah, that makes three times. Thank you again. You look pretty good too,' she said, reaching for his hand, needing to touch him.

Leaning forward, he kissed her softly and she responded with all of the love in her heart. "I love you," he said, knowing he had never said it and meant it like he did now.

Booth knocked at Cullen's office door, going in quickly at the muffled 'Come in' that came through the panel. He stopped short as he saw his partner sitting in one of the visitor's chairs. She looked a little worried and his pulse skipped a beat.

"Agent Booth, why don't you have a seat? I was just telling Dr. Brennan about the wonderful Italian restaurant my wife and I discovered Friday night." Booth sat down and Cullen went on. "We were having a lovely dinner when my wife suddenly looked over my right shoulder and said 'Isn't that Agent Booth?' I looked and you can imagine my surprise when I saw you and Dr. Brennan looking very cozy. Then I witnessed a rather unpartnerlike kiss. Care to explain?"

Booth was unable to look at Brennan as he searched his mind for words. Coming up empty, he sat staring at his superior.

"There's no point denying it, Booth," Brennan said finally, resignation in her voice. He slid a glance at her. She was looking at Cullen. "We've been involved for six months," she said in flat voice.

Cullen's brows went up, a little surprised that she hadn't tried to prevaricate. "Really? That long, eh?" His eyes went back and forth between them, studying each of them in turn. He sighed. "This could be a problem," he said ominously.

"Sir, listen, we've done fine for the past six months—" Booth began, but Cullen cut him off.

"Agent Booth, I guess I need to remind you there are a few very good reasons we don't allow fraternizing within the Bureau," Cullen said.

"But sir, she isn't FBI—" Booth argued. His mind was racing, trying to think of an argument to sway him.

"I know that, Booth, but she might as well be, as much as you work together." Cullen rubbed his eyes tiredly. They had put him in an awkward position. There wasn't any regulation against their being involved, but the danger was still very real. "Look, I'm not saying you can't be involved. I can see you really care about each other. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to reassign you, Booth," he said regretfully.

"No!" Brennan said desperately.

Cullen looked at her, surprised at the vehemence in her voice.

"Please, Mr. Cullen, don't do that," she said, almost begging. "We've managed to work together for six months without allowing our personal feelings to get in the way of doing the job—"

"That isn't the only issue, Dr. Brennan," Cullen cut in. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it could be for Booth—and you? Personal feelings cloud the judgment. Also, what's to stop some psycho from using your feelings for each other to force you to do something morally ambiguous?" He paused, waiting for them to argue. The doctor dropped her eyes to her hands and he knew she was thinking of Booth's safety. Booth was frowning as his mind frantically searched for a way out. Cullen knew the moment he came to grips with the knowledge there wasn't one.

"I'll send Agent Phillips when the next case comes in. I'm sure you'll find he's a very capable agent and I hope you'll extend him all the courtesy—"

"Don't expect me to be happy about this," Brennan interrupted, barely holding back tears. "You're making a mistake." Cullen opened his mouth to continue, but she wasn't done. "Don't worry, Agent Phillips will be treated with all the respect that is his due and my people and I will do our best to work with him. But let me warn you, the transition may not go smoothly. It took months for us to establish this partnership, and I'm afraid the balance we've been able to find is a rare thing." At that she stood and left before she lost the tight control she had on her emotions.

Booth rose to follow her, sad to his very soul. "I'll—be waiting for your instructions on my new duties," he said. "Right now I'm taking the rest of the day off. My partner needs me."

Cullen nodded, wondering if he'd just made a mistake. He knew he was right, but he couldn't help but wonder if being right was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Secret No More

Chapter 2

Booth finally caught up to her at her car. It always amazed him how fast she could move when she was upset. "Bones, wait!" he called.

She rounded on him with tears in her eyes, "Why didn't you stop him?" she demanded, relieved to have a target for her anger and frustration. "You promised! You told me you'd find a way to convince him to let us stay partners." She knew she wasn't being fair, but she couldn't seem to help herself.

Booth grabbed her arm as she turned to unlock the car door. "I know, babe, and I will. Trust me. I just—I guess after six months I started thinking there was nothing to worry about. I was blindsided."

A pair of tears slipped down her cheeks as her anger vanished, leaving only sadness. "How am I going to do this? I don't know how to do this without you," she said brokenly. "I don't want to do it without you."

Booth's heart broke as she burrowed into his chest, seeking comfort. He laid his cheek on her hair, wrapping his arms around her. "I know, baby. I don't either," he whispered.

Tuesday morning Brennan was finishing another unknown soldier report when Angela popped in. "Hey, Sweetie, how are you doing?" she asked gently. Booth had called her last night to tell her the news and.she had taken it in stride. She wasn't surprised that the secret had come out—to be honest, she was surprised that it had lasted this long. She was relieved that she hadn't had anything to do with the reveal.

Brennan glanced at her, frowning at the unwanted sympathy on her friend's face. "Fine. Is Zach here yet?" she asked to forestall any pointless discussion of the situation.

Angela suppressed a sigh at Brennan's stubborn refusal to face the problem. "Yeah, he and Hodgins are up on the platform." Brennan had already returned to her report but Angela wasn't done yet. "Bren, if you need someone to talk to—" she began.

"I said I'm fine. We're handling it," she said sharply. She sighed at the hurt look on Angela's face and gentled her tone. "It's okay, Ange, really. We'll come up with a way to deal with it. In time, Cullen will realize that he's made a mistake. In the meantime, I have Booth."

Angela held her gaze for a long moment. "That's right, you do. And don't you forget it." With a sad little smile and a wave she was gone.

A man in a sharp black suit and slicked back blonde hair knocked on her door jam. Brennan took a deep, calming breath. "Come in, Agent Phillips," she said, trying for a congenial tone and failing miserably.

Phillips came in and stopped in front of her desk. "Dr. Brennan, I don't know if you remember me. We met at a crime scene four months ago." He seemed to be having a hard time looking her in the eye, and Brennan felt a flash of sympathy. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with the situation. She decided making it more difficult for him wouldn't be fair.

"I remember," she replied, not exactly friendly, but far from the icy tone she wanted to use.

Phillips smiled a little and finally looked her in the eye. "Good. So, you can call me Carl," he offered in an effort to ease tensions.

Brennan shook her head. "Thank you, but I think we should keep it professional. I'll call you Agent Phillips and you can call me Dr. Brennan," she said firmly.

Phillips looked a little hurt at her rebuff. "As you wish. Are you available to go to a crime scene?" he asked politely.

"Sure," she replied, grabbing her kit and her jacket. She thought with longing about the brisk way Booth used to 'kidnap' her when they had a case. "You can fill me in on the way."

The crime scene was in a dank alley in a poor section of town. A city crew cleaning up some trash had found the body under a bunch of debris. Brennan ducked under the yellow tape and crouched by the remains, taking in the immediate area and the overall condition of the body. Gloving up, she pulled out an evidence bag out and began.

"Victim appears to be between sixteen and twenty-five years old. I'm guessing he's been dead at least three weeks…" she trailed off, looking over her shoulder. Where's Phillips? she wondered irritably. Finally she spotted him questioning one of the city workers, notepad and pen in hand. 'I guess hovering is just a Booth habit, either that or Phillips was absent the day they taught that.'

"Agent Phillips, would you please come here?" she called. He gave her a distracted glance, said something to the guy he was talking to, then came over to her.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan?" he asked, studiously avoiding looking directly at the body. His face was pale and she hoped if he was going to be ill, he would do it away from her crime scene.

"Don't you need to take notes on my preliminary findings?" she asked patiently. 'It's his first day, Brennan. Give him a chance,' she told herself, trying to stay calm.

"Uh, yes, I suppose so. What do you have so far?" he asked, keeping his gaze locked on her.

She repeated everything she had said before and waited expectantly. When he didn't ask the usual 'so how did he die?' question Booth always did, she turned back to the body, disappointed. 'Maybe he was absent when they taught that too,' she thought dispiritedly.

Driving back to the Jeffersonian several hours later, Brennan was uncharacteristically silent. She missed the discussions she and Booth used to have after leaving the crime scene. Okay, so Booth would call it bickering, but she'd always enjoyed the challenge of their verbal sparring. She glanced over at Phillips, who drove with both hands on the wheel and a look of intense concentration on his face. She wondered what he'd do if she turned on the radio. A smile quirked her lips. Probably nothing. She sensed he was somewhat intimidated by her. She could probably call the shots, as Booth would say, in nearly every situation and he wouldn't argue. She suppressed a sigh of boredom.

Brennan dropped her purse and keys on the table inside her front door and smiled. There was a heavenly smell emanating from the kitchen and 'Hotel California' was playing on the sound system. She found him in the kitchen, pulling stuff out of the fridge. He was wearing a pair of gray sweats and an old black T-shirt and she thought he was the best thing she'd seen all day.

"Honey, I'm home," she sing-songed teasingly, unable to suppress a smile of pure joy.

He straightened and put the peppers down, grabbing her up into his arms. Brennan couldn't stop smiling as she savored the thrill of being held by him. She'd really missed him today. He trailed kisses up her neck and finally found her lips and kissed her thoroughly, until they were both breathless.

"Wow, I guess you missed me too," she said in her sexy, husky voice.

Booth couldn't stop grinning at her. "Sure did." He dropped another kiss on her lips. "How was your day?" he asked softly as his eyes drank her in like he hadn't seen her in weeks.

She sighed. "It was okay. I missed you," she admitted, kissing him softly.

He smiled, pleased. She missed him! Even better, she had admitted it. His heart felt lighter than it had all day. "God, what a boring day! Cullen put me with Adams. Nice guy, but not much personality." Squeezing her tight one last time, he let her go and picked up the bell peppers and turned to the cutting board. "Did Phillips bring you a case?" he asked as he started chopping. Brennan came to lean against the counter next to him, the need to be near him nearly overwhelming. She snitched a piece of bell pepper and munched on it.

"Yes, it was a body found in an alley under a big pile of debris. A young man, probably murdered and dumped there." She paused thoughtfully. "How long has Phillips been with the Bureau?" she asked casually.

Booth lifted a shoulder. "Almost as long as I have. Why?'

"Nothing. We probably just need to get used to each other." She tried to shrug it off.

Booth glanced at her. "What do you mean?" he asked, ready to get mad if Phillips had done anything wrong.

"He was just so—different. He didn't hover like you do and I had to remind him to take notes. And he drives like an old lady," she finished disparagingly.

Booth smiled. "So you like my hovering?" he asked teasingly.

Brennan rolled her eyes and opened a cupboard to get a glass. "I guess I got used to it," she admitted, pouring herself some orange juice from the fridge. "At least I always knew you were _interested_ in what I was doing. He gave me the impression that he really didn't want to be there." Finishing the juice, she rinsed the glass and left it by the sink.

"Of course I was interested. It was my case too. Phillips just doesn't realize how important working as a team is." He added the chopped peppers to the pan simmering on the stove and stirred the contents.

Brennan smiled and came up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her head on his back. "Neither did you when we first met," she reminded him gently. Putting down the spoon, he turned in her arms to look down into her sparkling eyes.

"I learned soon enough," he said with a cocky grin. Looking up into his dear, handsome face, a lump came to her throat. She loved him so much. He saw the sheen of tears in her eyes and reached up to stroke her soft cheek. "Hey, it's gonna be okay," he said softly.

Blinking back the tears, she smiled. "I know. I'm so glad you're here," she confessed.

He kissed her again. "Me too. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."


	3. Chapter 3

Secret No More   
Chapter 3   
At noon on Wednesday Brennan was eating a sandwich at her desk. Phillips hadn't shown up yet and she was beginning to wonder if he would. At this point in the case, Booth would have been here pestering the squints for any details they might be able to provide. She decided it must just be a matter of different investigative style. Her phone rang.   
"Brennan."   
"Hi, Dr. Brennan? It's Phillips. I was wondering—"   
"Do you plan on coming by the lab anytime soon?" she asked as calmly as she could.   
Silence. Then "Why, do you need me there?" He sounded confused.   
Good question. "Well, no, I guess it isn't necessary, it's just Booth always—" she broke off, mentally kicking herself. She had made a solemn vow to herself before this started that she wouldn't compare Phillips to Booth—at least, not to his face. She couldn't control her thoughts.   
"I'm—sorry, Dr. Brennan, but I'm not Booth. I don't know how things worked between you two, but I figured you'd call me in if you needed me. I've got other cases that need my attention—"   
"Fine," she interrupted impatiently, irrationally angry that he wasn't more like Booth. "Would you like me to email our findings to you?" she asked acidly.   
"That would be great," Phillips replied, apparently oblivious to her sarcasm. "Well, talk to you later." Dial tone. Brennan frowned at the receiver. 'Did he just hang up on me?' she thought in consternation.   
Moments later Angela came in. "I put the skull with the tissue markers into the Angelator. Wanna come see our vic?" she asked, oblivious to her friend's mood.   
Brennan stood up and slipped on her lab coat. "Yeah," she said, her mind obviously elsewhere.   
Angela snapped her fingers. "Hey, earth to Brennan?"   
Brennan's eyes focused on Angela. "Phillips hung up on me," she said, still unable to believe his gall.   
Angela's brows shot up. "Really? Something you said?" Knowing how blunt her friend could be, it wouldn't surprise her.   
"No," she said slowly. "He wants us to email him our findings."   
Angela looked puzzled. "Email? Why isn't he coming here?"   
"See, this is why it isn't a good idea to use sarcasm!" Brennan exclaimed, completely losing Angela now.   
"Sarcasm? Sweetie, you're gonna have to fill in some of the blanks, 'cuz I'm not following you," Angela said, trying to be patient.   
Brennan gave her a brief rundown of the conversation. Angela resisted the urge to laugh. "Evidently Agent Phillips is as literal as you are. Why don't you just ask him to come here? That way he can see what I have on the Angelator." She was looking forward to impressing the good looking agent with her computer wizardry. Hard to do if Brennan had scared him off.   
Brennan was starting to get mad as she mentally went over the conversation yet again. "I shouldn't _have_ to tell him. I mean, it's his case too," she said sharply. "Doesn't he care if we solve it?"   
"Bren, he's a guy and he's not Booth. Most guys don't have Booth's intuition. If you need Agent Phillips to come here to go over our findings, you're gonna have to tell him so," she said patiently.   
Brennan rolled her eyes, frustrated. "For the record, in case anybody is wondering, I don't like breaking in a new partner. Booth and I had a great thing going, then Cullen had to mess it up." She blew out a breath, blinking furiously. 'I'm not going to cry,' she told herself firmly, steeling herself against the sympathy in her friend's eyes.   
"Don't worry, Bren. I'm sure Cullen will come around eventually. He just needs learn that a partnership like yours is rare," Angela said reassuringly.   
"I hope you're right," Brennan said, blinking back more tears. 

Booth ran into Phillips in the hallway. "Hey, how's it going?" he asked casually. He already knew how Bones would answer that question. He wanted Phillips' take on the situation.   
Phillips shook his head, frowning. "Dr. Brennan asked me when I was coming to the lab," he said as though still trying to understand.   
'Uh-oh,' Booth thought. 'Trouble already.' Phillips was waiting expectantly, hoping for some insight. "When is the last time you went?" Booth asked.   
"When I picked her up to take her to the crime scene," he replied to Booth's surprise.   
Booth's brows went up. "Really? Don't you think you oughta go by, see if they have anything you can work with?" He didn't understand why the guy wasn't already on his way there.   
Phillips looked mystified. "Wouldn't they let me know if they did? I mean, I can't hang around there all the time. I have other cases that need my attention."   
Booth sighed. This guy definitely needed some guidance. "Look, Phillips, I'm gonna give you a little hint, so pay attention. The squints have a tendency to get caught up in their little world of science and forget the object of the whole thing is to provide the investigator with information he can run with. If you aren't there to drag it out of them, things could go on for God knows how long."   
Phillips looked dubious. "Are you sure? I thought I'd just be in the way." He wondered briefly if Booth might be trying to sabotage his developing partnership with Dr. Brennan, but discarded the idea as being beneath him.   
"No, trust me. Its better if you're there to keep them focused on the goal. Otherwise they get caught up in the details. I'll see ya later," Booth said, continuing on his way. 'Way to go, Booth. Help the guy who is taking your job.'   



	4. Chapter 4

**A/N I want to thank my most loyal reviewers, jerseybones, bbforever, flyersfan and my newest on Christmas(something—can't remember, it's a long name). You guys make me smile every time. Really, reviews are the fuel for my creativity. So here's the next part, no fluff but musie has promised some on the horizon**

Secret No More

Chapter 4

It was Thursday morning and the squints were working diligently on the platform. The skeleton was laid out on a table and Brennan and Zach were examining it. Hodgins analyzing the bugs as Angela looked on. She was the only one who didn't have anything to do and she was bored.

Phillips strode in briskly and she perked up. Without breaking stride, he started up the platform steps. She opened her mouth to warn him but it was already too late. As he reached the third step the alarms began their deafening wail. The poor guy froze, a look of sheer panic on his face. Security guards rushed in from three directions and Brennan straightened to pin Phillips with an annoyed look.

"It's okay, Johnson. He's with me," she said tiredly. The security guard lowered his gun slowly and took a step back as the alarm was abruptly cut off. The silence it left was heavy and Angela felt compelled to break it. She stood and offered her hand to the agent.

"I don't think we've met," she said with one of her blinding smiles. "I'm Angela Montenegro. I do facial reconstruction."

Phillips absently shook her hand, gaze focused on Brennan. "Nice to meet you. Uh, I'm sorry about the alarm, Dr. Brennan. I didn't know—"

"What are you doing here?" Brennan interrupted rudely. "I emailed you a report yesterday afternoon. Did you understand it, or do you need a translator?" she asked snidely.

Phillips reddened. "Uh, well Booth said I ought to come by—"

"Booth? He sent you?" Phillips nodded hesitantly. Brennan muttered something under her breath that sounded like 'Wait until I talk to him,' but he wasn't sure.

"I, uh, thought maybe we could go over your report—"

Brennan sighed. "As you can see, I'm a little busy right now—"

"Do you think you could let me finish a sentence?" Phillips snapped, showing a little backbone at last. Brennan stiffened.

Angela intervened before someone could get hurt. "Agent Phillips, how about I show you what I have on the Angelator?" she asked, linking her arm with his. He studied Brennan for another long moment, then looked at Angela.

"What's an Angelator?" he asked, and Angela smiled broadly.

"Just about the best piece of forensic technology ever…" She pulled him along, laying it on thick as she waxed poetic about her baby.

Zach had continued his examination throughout the encounter, but the fact that he'd taken in the whole thing was evident at his next words. "Why are you being so mean to Agent Phillips?"

Brennan firmed her lips, trying to hold onto her temper. "Mean? I've been civil to him from the start. Then he drops this case on me and disappears for days and when he finally shows up, I'm supposed to—what? Kiss his feet?" Her voice had risen with every word until she was nearly shouting.

Zach looked at her calmly. "If you wanted him to come by the lab, maybe you should have called him," he said reasonably. "How could he know otherwise? Maybe you should 'cut him some slack' as Angela would say."

Brennan huffed, frustrated because he was right. "Why is everyone telling me to 'cut him some slack'? Why isn't anyone cutting ME some slack? I'm trying to adjust to working without Booth and this new guy is just so--different." She stopped ranting and thought back to his first question. "You really think I'm being mean?" she asked in a softer tone.

Zach looked up. "I've seen you act warmer toward suspected murderers," he said solemnly. That would have been a joke coming from anyone else, but she knew he was dead serious. Brennan wondered if maybe she _was_ being too hard on Phillips, expecting too much. It wasn't his fault he wasn't Booth.

"Okay, okay, I'll make more of an effort to make him feel welcome. And I'll work on communicating my expectations more affectively."

Zach gave her a distracted smile. "That's great, Dr. Brennan." He paused, shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly. "So, do you think we could get back to the murder victim?" At her nod, he continued. "I didn't find any defensive wounds. Would you please confirm?"

Agent Phillips was suitably impressed by the Angelator. "You're saying it can run simulations based on parameters you enter?" Angela nodded, overjoyed to find someone as enthusiastic about her brain child as she was. "That must be very useful in solving crimes," he marveled as he bent to examine the base of the machine.

"Oh, it is. We've used it many times in the course of an investigation, running different possible scenarios, to figure out just how the murder was committed. It's helped us catch a lot of criminals," she said proudly

He stood, hands on hips, looking up to the top of it, unable to get over the sheer ingenuity.

"Can I ask you a question, Agent Phillips?" Angela asked.

"You can call me Carl," he said with a half smile.

Angela smiled a little in return. "No offense, but Dr. Brennan still calls you Agent Phillips, and unless we were dating—sorry, I'm taken, so not an option—I pretty much take my cue from her. If she ever calls you Carl, I will too." Phillips was doing his best not to look offended. "Back to my question. Why haven't you come by before now?"

Phillips sighed and leaned on the Angelator, then dropped his hands and took a step back at the 'hands off' signal she gave him. "You have to understand something. This partnership between the FBI and the Jeffersonian is unique. Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth seemed to have come up with the play book on their own. Nobody thought to give me a copy when I took over, but they expect me to know all the plays. That hardly seems fair."

Angela smiled. "Great analogy. Let me see if I can run with it." She paused, thinking. "Dr. Brennan is used to working with a particular receiver. They work well as a unit, they're getting touch downs left and right and they almost always win the game. Then the coach pulls a fast one, puts in a rookie receiver that she's never practiced with. She throws pass after pass, but she can't seem to connect with the new receiver 'cuz he doesn't understand her signals. She's getting frustrated 'cuz they're losing the game. She's not used to losing." Phillips was studying her thoughtfully. "All I'm saying is, it's a partnership, fifty fifty. Give and take. Dr. Brennan's a really smart lady, but sometimes she's a little—oblivious. But she's pretty reasonable if you take the time to talk to her."

Phillips smiled. "Does she realize what a great friend she has in you?"

Angela smiled too. "Of course she does, but I remind her from time to time."

**And so, please please please review. More will come sooner if I get some lovely reviews.**


	5. Chapter 5

Secret No More

Chapter 5

Brennan was aware of their return to the platform, but chose not to acknowledge them. She had a feeling that Angela had had words with Phillips in an attempt to 'fix' the situation and was curious what had been said. She suspected she wouldn't have to wait too long to find out. And she was right.

"Uh, Dr. Brennan, would you have time to get a cup of coffee?" he asked politely. "I think we should talk."

Brennan looked up at him. He was watching her with a hopeful look. "You're right," she agreed, more readily than he'd expected. Pulling her gloves off, she spoke to Zach. "I'll need your report as soon as possible." Angela beamed at her as she exited the platform with Phillips right behind her.

She closed her office door behind them. Though she didn't think anyone would disturb them, she didn't need anyone eavesdropping. This was just between them. Philips took the chair in front of her desk at her gesture and she sat down behind her desk. Silence fell as Phillips searched for the words to begin, but Brennan beat him to it.

"I have a feeling the Angelator wasn't the only topic of conversation between you two," she said wryly.

Phillips reddened a little. "Well, yeah, we, uh—talked about you and me." His blush deepened. "What I mean is, you know, our partnership—that is, I mean—"

A smile teased her lips at his discomfort. "I understand. I've been thinking about that. I think there are some issues we need to address."

He sighed with relief. It seemed she was going to make this easier. He was thankful. "Yes, well, I wanted to start by apologizing. I, uh, realize I may have given you the impression that I don't care about the case. Nothing could be further from the truth."

"I already knew that on some level, I'm just used to a more 'hands on' approach from—" she broke off. "Can I be blunt?" she asked suddenly, tired of tiptoeing around.

Phillips steeled himself. "Sure."

"For the purposes of this conversation, let me make it clear that I _know_ you aren't Booth and I don't expect you to be like him. When I bring up the way we did things, I'm not comparing you to him, I'm just telling you what I'm accustomed to. Understood?"

Phillips nodded. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

"Good. As I was saying, I'm used to more involvement from my FBI liaison. Booth came into the lab at least once a day and called for updates frequently."

Phillips frowned thoughtfully. "And that didn't bother you? You didn't feel—harassed?"

Brennan smiled wryly. "Well, yes, I did at times, but what I'm trying to say is—it worked. I never had any doubt that Booth was as involved and committed to the case as my team and I were."

"So—you want me to harass you?" Phillips asked, struggling to understand.

Brennan chuckled. "Maybe we could go for 'involved' and take it from there." Phillips nodded. "Now, at the crime scene, I need you to—hover," she said.

The confusion was back. "Hover?"

"When I'm performing my preliminary examination, I need you to stand nearby and take notes," she explained patiently.

"Uh, don't you have some kind of recorder for that?" he asked hesitantly.

Brennan frowned, puzzled by his attitude. "No, I need both hands free. Do you have a problem with that?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Actually, I tend to get nauseated at the sight of blood and the like," he confessed, unable to meet her eyes.

"Nauseated? To the point of actually—"

"Yes," he interrupted painfully.

Brennan was confounded. "Why did you become a homicide detective with a problem like that?"

Phillips shrugged. "The pay is better and I never thought I'd actually have to come that close to the body."

Brennan shook her head, completely mystified. "How can you investigate a murder without examining the body?"

"Excuse me if this sounds impertinent, but isn't that _your_ job? I'm not the forensics expert, you are. My job is to question witnesses and suspects, follow leads and find other evidence to build our case," he argued. "Those are my strengths."

Brennan sighed, closing her eyes. After a moment, she opened them again. "Agent Phillips, can we compromise on this point? You only need to stand close enough to hear me so you can take notes. Can you do that?" He swallowed and nodded. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Okay, but if you feel the urge to vomit, I ask that you get as far from the remains as possible before succumbing. I don't want you compromising the crime scene."

Phillips looked a bit dubious, but nodded just the same. "I suppose I can do that. Anything else?"

Brennan looked at him thoughtfully for a long time and he forced himself to hold her gaze steadily. Smiling a little, she shook her head. "No, I guess that about covers it." She stood and offered her hand. "Thank you, Agent Phillips. Now, do you want to go over that report?"

Smiling with relief, Phillips shook her hand. "Yes, that would be great."

Brennan finished setting the table and returned to the kitchen to check on the stew that was bubbling on the stove. The timer for the dinner rolls had a few minutes left on it, so she went to freshen up a bit. She was brushing her hair when she heard the front door open. A smile of pure happiness spread across her face as she hurried to meet him.

His suit jacket was hooked on his finger over his shoulder and he had loosened his tie. Other than that he looked as fresh as he had when he left this morning. Over the past six months, he had gradually moved in with her. Most of his clothes were at her place and he spent the night almost every night. She had been a little wary of living with him. She had tried living with guys in the past and it had never gone well for long. Something about picking up dirty socks and dealing with the day to day stuff took the shine off the romance. Living with Booth was a whole different story. He was a neat and considerate roommate, pitching in cheerfully without being asked when there was cleaning to be done. If he had any faults, he was hiding them well. She'd grown to love cohabiting with him.

He spotted her in the kitchen doorway and grinned that sexy, cocked grin that always made her melt. "Hi," he said huskily, grabbing her and hugging her tightly for an endless moment. He pulled back and kissed her softly. When he would have stopped, she pulled him back for more, moaning as his tongue swept across hers. A loud beeping from the kitchen finally broke them apart.

Laughing breathlessly, Brennan pulled back. "Rolls," she said. Booth let her go reluctantly and she went to rescue the rolls from incineration.

After dinner they cuddled on the couch as soft jazz played. Brennan had been a little quiet and Booth wondered when she was going to tell him what was on her mind. She turned her head to look up at him with a serious look and dread caused his heart to thud. 'She's going to leave me,' he thought, starting to panic.

"Phillips and I had a talk today," she told him, and relief flooded him. "I think things will go better now. He really is a nice guy."

He was happy for her sake, but felt a pang at the possibility that she might like her new partner better than him. "Really? That's great," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" she asked, sensing that something was off.

Smiling, he tried to bluff. "No, no, of course not. I'm glad for you. I know it's been hard." She looked at him skeptically and he decided to be honest. "Okay, so I'm concerned that you might like working with him more than me," he finally confessed.

Sitting up a little, she turned to face him. "No, Booth. Never," she said unequivocally. "I just—things couldn't continue as they were. We needed to find a better way to work the case together."

His eyes searched hers for a long moment. "I miss you—every day," he whispered. "I miss working with you, coming to the lab, hell, I even miss the damn squints," he admitted wryly. "I guess I was hoping you'd find it impossible to work with anyone else and then Cullen would have to give in—"

"Don't you think I miss you too?" she asked with a catch in her voice. "Every time those double doors swish open, I have to stop myself from looking up to see if it's you. My phone rings and I check the caller ID, disappointed every time it isn't you." Tears filled her lovely eyes and squeezed Booth's heart. She blinked them back and took a steadying breath. "I manage every day because I have to. And at the end of the day, I come home and you're here or I know you will be and I tell myself it's enough. It has to be. The only thing that would be worse is if I didn't have that." Reaching up to stroke his cheek, she smiled. He covered her hand with his, prolonging the contact.

"I'm trying to convince myself it is enough, but it's hard. My job with the Bureau is a big part of my life and without you in it—I feel like a huge chunk is missing." His mouth thinned. "But the worst part is not being there to keep you safe. There's this—urgent need to be with you that is so strong sometimes—" he broke off, unable to finish.

Sliding into his lap, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. "I know," she murmured. "It's one of the things I love about you, even though it is frustrating at times. You know, I'm quite capable of keeping myself safe," she reminded him with a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back. "Maybe. Sometimes. I just feel better when I'm the one keeping you safe," he said seriously.

"Well, if it's any comfort, I don't think I'm going to be in any dangerous situations with Agent Phillips on the case. He doesn't seem the type." Booth looked doubtful. Brennan chuckled a little. "No, really, do you know he gets nauseous at the sight of blood and decomposing flesh?"

Booth feigned shock. "No, really? I can't imagine why!" he teased. "Temperance, would it surprise you to hear that _normal_ people can't handle that gross stuff?"

She looked absolutely mystified. "I don't know why. I mean, sure, it doesn't smell very nice, but decomposition is just a natural progression of tissue—" she broke off as he rolled his eyes. She straightened in his lap, offended as she thought about what he'd said. "So I'm not normal?"

He grinned and pulled her close. "Nope, not even close. And I wouldn't have you any other way. Normal's boring." Then he was kissing her deeply and she completely lost the thread of the conversation.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I want to thank all my faithful reviewers brennanmarie, jerseybones, meegs, bb4ever, btvsfifi, ChristmasinHollywood, and bonesBBlover. You guys rock my world and make me smile! Now, buckle your seat belts, the angst coaster's about to take off.**

Secret No More

Chapter 6

Seven weeks passed uneventfully. Brennan and Phillips had fallen into a routine that, while not as good as the one she'd had with Booth, managed to get the job done. They were on their third case and they were developing a healthy respect for each other's talents. Phillips liked to have her along when he questioned suspects and witnesses. She had a sharp mind and he had found that her blunt questions and comments sometimes startled their subjects into revealing things that might have otherwise remained hidden in the course of his usual mode of questioning. He enjoyed her wit and intelligence and they had had many lively debates about religion, anthropological tendencies and pop culture. He was beginning to understand what Booth saw in her. She was quite a woman.

This Monday morning he found her in her office working at her computer. Their current case involved a young woman whose body had been mutilated and dumped in a federal park. Evidence was pointing to the woman's estranged boyfriend and Phillips was about to go pick him up for questioning. She didn't need to come along, but she tended to get upset with him if he tried to leave her out of these things.

She finally looked up from the report she was reading. "Hi. Zach found kerf marks consistent with the knife found in the dumpster behind Nelson's apartment and we found traces of the victim's blood on it. Unfortunately, the knife handle was wiped clean."

Phillips smiled, unfazed by the lack of fingerprints. Seemed things were finally starting to fall in place. "Good. Ready to go? I want to catch Nelson before he leaves for work."

Shutting down the computer, Brennan nodded. She picked up her coat and her bag and followed him out.

Two agents met them in the hall outside Nelson's apartment. Two more were covering the outside. Phillips pulled his gun, flattening himself against the wall. His head snapped to the left when he heard a loud click. Brennan was just behind him holding that damn cannon of hers. Making a staying motion with his hand, he knocked with his free hand.

"Mr. Nelson? FBI. We need to talk to you," he shouted. Silence. Nodding to the agent with the battering ram, he turned his head as the door was smashed in. He went in, gun held out in both hands, sweeping left and right. He felt Brennan right behind him. He checked the living room and went into the kitchen while Brennan recklessly led the way down the hall to check the bedroom.

Suddenly shots rang out and Phillips' heart stopped as he heard a grunt and the thump of a body falling. Dropping to a crouch, he rushed in the direction of the sounds. He found her lying in a slowly spreading pool of blood in the hallway. He motioned to the two agents to continue down the hall while he knelt by his partner.

"Dr. Brennan!" he said urgently. She was wearing her vest, thank God. He found the wound right away—the bullet had grazed her left temple, which explained the amount of blood. He pulled out a field dressing, tearing it open frantically. Pressing it to the wound, he continued to speak to her. "Temperance! Wake up! Please wake up! Oh, Booth is going to kill me! Temperance, please!"

Booth brushed the nurse out of the way and pushed his way into Brennan's room. His heart seized as he saw her lying pale against the pillows, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. Picking up her limp hand, he bent over her and kissed her forehead tenderly. "Temperance?" he whispered, tears in his eyes. She didn't respond.

"She's been unconscious since it happened," Phillips said from his seat on the other side of the bed.

Booth straightened and pinned him with an angry glare. "Tell me," he demanded roughly, keeping his voice low. Phillips swallowed hard and stood to face Booth. Briefly, haltingly, he described the events that led to her injury.

Booth listened grimly. "You were supposed to keep her safe," he said as a muscle jumped in his jaw indicating a temper barely controlled.

Phillips' head dropped forward guiltily. "I know. It all happened so quickly, she headed down the hall before we could even—"

"Didn't I warn you? She doesn't stop to think of her own safety. She isn't field trained like we are. You have to—" he broke off, clenching his fists as he fought the urge to punch Phillips, the wall, _something_.

"I know! Booth, don't you think I've kicked myself a hundred times since it happened? Gone over it time and again, thinking what I could have done differently? I care about her too!" he exclaimed painfully.

Booth's mouth was grim, his eyes narrowed on Phillips. "I don't just care about her," he said. "I love her and I'm hoping one day to make her my wife. Any feelings you might have for her can't come close to that. You're lucky she wasn't seriously hurt," he said quietly with a thread of barely contained violence that sent a shiver down Phillips' spine.

"Booth?" came a whisper from the bed.

He bent over her immediately. "I'm here, babe. How do you feel?" The violence was gone like it had never been there, replaced by tenderness.

Brennan frowned, shifting restlessly under the covers. "Head hurts," she said hoarsely. "Wha-what happened?"

Booth stroked her hair back from her cheek. "You've been shot, just a graze on the side of your head, but it knocked you out for awhile. Doctor says you're gonna be fine."

She turned her head, squinting in Phillips' direction. "Not your fault," she said weakly. "Mine." Sighing, her eyes closed as though she'd used the last of her energy.

Phillips smiled down at her, but the even cadence of her breathing told them she was asleep once more. Squeezing her hand, Booth looked back up at the other agent. Phillips' smile faded and he decided it was time to leave. He looked back as he opened the door to see Booth bent over her, kissing her softly on the lips. He was overcome with relief again as he thanked God she hadn't been seriously hurt or worse, killed. He didn't want to think what Booth's reaction would have been if that had happened.

Phillips stood stiffly in front of Cullen's desk.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Agent Phillips?" the deputy director asked gruffly.

"Well, sir, Dr. Brennan headed down the hallway before any of us could stop her—" Phillips began, forcing himself to meet Cullen's glare steadily.

"Are you telling me it was her fault?" Cullen interrupted. Knowing what he did about Dr. Brennan, he wouldn't be surprised if it was, but he wanted to see if Phillips would take the blame.

"No, sir!" Phillips protested vehemently. "I take full responsibility. I should have stopped—"

"Damned right it's your fault. You nearly got our forensic anthropologist killed with your carelessness!"

Phillips' looked down, ashamed. "I know sir, and I'm very sorry. I totally understand your anger and I'm ready to accept any punishment you might—"

"I don't need your permission to put you on suspension, Agent Phillips," Cullen said roughly. Phillips' heart sank. In nearly ten years he had never been suspended. The deputy director's next words got his attention. "But I'm not going to do that," he said in a tired voice. "I'm going to reassign you. I'll send you the details later. Take the rest of the day off."

Phillips couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face. "Yes, sir, thank you sir," he said, making his exit before Cullen could change his mind. Cullen sat and stared at the closed door for a long moment, wondering what the hell to do now. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he swiveled his chair and gazed sightlessly out the window, deep in thought.

**More later, but for now, click the little blue button, you know you want to, go on, click it! Please? I'll love ya forever.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Once again, thank you to all my faithful reviewers. If it weren't for you, I couldn't go on.**

Secret No More

Chapter 7

Angela slipped into Brennan's room as quietly as possible. As expected, Booth was in a chair next to the bed. His hands were folded with one of Brennan's between them and his head was bowed as his lips moved in a silent prayer. Angela smiled at him through a mist of tears.

"Hey, Booth. You know, if she was awake and knew you were praying over her, she'd give you hell.," she teased gently.

He looked up, blinking away tears, smiling a bit. "Yeah, well, what she doesn't know won't hurt me," he quipped. He looked back at Brennan. "I was scared, Angela. Really terrified. I don't even wanna think about going on without her," he admitted hoarsely.

Angela moved to stand beside him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know, Booth. She feels the same way about you."

He stroked the soft skin of Brennan's hand. "I can't go on like this, Angela. I have to convince Cullen to reassign me to the Jeffersonian. Any ideas?" He looked at her hopefully and her heart went out to him at the pain in his face.

"Nobody can keep her safe like you can, Booth. All you have to do is convince Cullen of that," she said as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

He looked back at Brennan. "I don't know about that. Since she started working with me, she's been kidnapped, shot at and threatened by gang leaders." He paused and turned his head to fix a steady look on Angela. "Did I ever tell you why I was late to the Duarte funeral that day?" he asked suddenly. She lifted her brows in query. "I found out that gang leader, I don't even remember the asshole's name, put out a contract on her. I tracked him down and I put a gun in his mouth and I told him if anything happened to her I was going to kill him. Do you know what Cullen would do if he ever found out?" He went on without waiting for an answer. "I'd probably be done with the Bureau, and I knew that, but I didn't care. And that was before I'd realized what she meant to me."

Angela sighed wistfully. That was so romantic in a kind of twisted, violent way. She realized Booth was looking at her expectantly. "I wish I had some amazingly profound advice to give you, but I don't really know Cullen as well as you do. I don't know what would change his mind. But you can't go wrong speaking from the heart."

'That's because you're a heart person," Brennan said weakly. They both turned to look at her.

"Sweetie!" Angela said softly, smiling down at her friend and moving closer. "How do you feel?"

"Headache," she said hoarsely. She licked her cracked lips. "Water?" she asked.

Booth grabbed a cup off the small table by the bed and held the straw for her. She drank deeply then laid back, closing her eyes. She opened them again, fixing her gaze on Booth. "How long?" she asked, sounding a little stronger.

"You've been out for about seven hours. Do you remember what happened?"

Brennan smiled a bit guiltily. "I went down the hall. Then shots. Should have waited for Phillips, but you know me," she said wryly.

Booth squeezed her hand. "We'll talk about that later. For now, you need to rest so you can get well enough to go home."

Brennan frowned, shaking her head. "It wasn't Phillips fault. Booth, make sure Cullen knows, it wasn't his fault. It was mine," she finished weakly.

Angela tapped Brennan's leg. "Don't worry about Phillips, Bren. I'm sure Cullen's not going to fire him or anything," she said reassuringly.

"Better not, or he'll have to deal with me," Brennan threatened with a hint of her usual spirit. "When can I go home?"

Booth shot a glance at Angela then looked down at Brennan. "Doctor said a couple days. You're lucky to be alive," he reminded her with a catch in his voice. Every time he thought of how close it had been, his heart skipped a beat.

"I know," she said. "Not the first time," she reminded him.

He blinked tears back. "That doesn't make it any easier to handle," he said softly as her grip on his hand slackened and sleep claimed her once more.

Angela squeezed his shoulder. "I'm gonna go now, okay? I'll come by tomorrow to see how she's doing. Don't let her get up before the doctor says its okay no matter what. You know how stubborn she can be."

"I know. I'm staying the night. See ya tomorrow."

He didn't look up as she walked to the door and turned to glance back at him. He was straightening the covers with unsteady hands and her heart went out to him. In spite of the circumstances her heart lifted. Brennan had finally found a keeper.

Brennan went home three days later to find that Booth had completely moved in. He spent the next four days waiting on her tirelessly, to the point she wanted him to go back to work so she could have some peace. He agreed reluctantly after she promised to call him immediately if she needed him. Phillips came to see her the day Booth returned to work.

He sat stiffly in the chair she offered, completely at a loss for words. He was happy to see there was color in her face and she seemed to be recovering well.

"Cullen reassigned me," he told her regretfully.

Brennan sighed. "I thought he would. Are you okay with that?" she asked, concerned that her actions might have harmed his career in some way.

He smiled wryly. "Yeah, it's okay. I've been reassigned to Homeland Security. Not as exciting as homicide, but at least I don't have to deal with dead bodies any more."

"Sounds boring," she said, only halfway teasing. "Do you work alone or do you have a partner?"

"For now I'm training under Agent Connors. When he cuts me loose I'll be on my own." His eyes searched hers for a long moment. "I'm sorry you were hurt. I keep thinking there was something I could have done to prevent—"

Brennan sighed impatiently. "How many times do I have to have this conversation? You did nothing wrong. Ask Booth, I'm far too impulsive for my own good. Now, please, don't waste any more time thinking about it." He looked somewhat relieved.

"Do you know who your new liaison is?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Not yet. I'll probably return to work next week and Cullen will let me know then." She sighed. "I wish he'd let me have Booth," she said wistfully.

Looking down at his folded hands, he searched desperately for something positive to say. "I'm sure he'll send a very capable agent," was all he could come up with.

"But you don't think it'll be Booth," she said sadly.

He looked up to find her watching him steadily. "No," he said bluntly. Her lips thinned and he felt sorry for her. Booth really was the best man for the job, but Cullen didn't agree. Phillips just hoped Cullen realized he was wrong before something really bad happened. Mumbling about getting to work, he took his leave.

**Now, please click the little blue button and feed my need for reviews.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: My muse is on fire tonight! So here's some lovely fluff followed by some angst. Reviews make me dance and my muse bugs me to write more, more, more!**

Secret No More

Chapter 8

Booth shut the door behind him with his foot, carefully balancing the box of Wong Foos. He looked toward the couch where he'd left her this morning and his heart skipped a beat. She wasn't there. 'Calm down, Booth, she's here. You took her keys, remember?'

"Honey, I'm home," he called, heading for the kitchen. Setting the box on the counter, he turned towards the hall. She was coming from the bathroom, walking carefully, one hand trailing along the wall as though she was afraid of falling. He could see the effort it took for her to walk but resisted the urge to rush to her side. She wouldn't appreciate it.

She smiled tiredly. "Hi, Booth." She noticed the box of takeout and her smile widened. "I was going to start dinner, but I guess you already took care of it," she said with obvious relief. She couldn't believe how exhausted she was.

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her carefully. "I missed you," he said softly. He kissed her tenderly and she snuggled into his arms, content for the first time that day.

"I missed you, too," she said with a smile. "Can we eat?" she asked, suddenly realizing she was ravenous. He helped her get situated at the table and quickly laid out the food. He studied her intently as they ate. There were circles under her eyes and her face was slack with exhaustion.

"What did you do today?" he asked in a deceptively casual voice. He'd lay bets she hadn't rested all day like he'd told her to.

"I read some and slept off and on. Phillips came by this morning," she said, hoping to distract him from probing further. He didn't need to know she'd spent an hour on her laptop answering emails.

"Really? What did he want?" he asked, smothering a flash of jealousy. He knew there was no reason for it, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

"He still feels responsible. I think I finally convinced him there wasn't anything he could have done to prevent it. Cullen reassigned him to Homeland Security. He seems to be happy about it." Brennan took a bite of panang curry.

"Does he know who the new liaison is?" he asked anxiously.

"No." Brennan frowned. "Do you think Cullen's changed his mind about us?" she asked hopefully.

Booth didn't think there was much chance of that, but she didn't need to know that. "It's possible. I'll talk to him tomorrow." He narrowed his eyes at her. "How long were you on the computer today?"

She sighed. She should have known he'd guess. "Just an hour. I need to keep up so I'm not buried when I get back."

"Can't Zach take care of it? I mean, how much work can there be with you absent from the lab?" Booth decided he was going to check on that first thing tomorrow. Something else she didn't need to know.

"I'm sure he's got plenty to do. Besides, there were a lot of emails that I needed to address myself." He was watching her grimly. "Booth, I'm fine, really. I have to do something or I'll go crazy!" she said desperately.

He relented. He could tell the inactivity was really bothering her. "Okay, just don't overdo it, babe. I hate to see you so tired." She pushed back from the table, finished eating. "Why don't you go to bed? I'll clean this up."

"I don't want to go to bed yet. I want to be with you," she confessed. A lump came to her throat and she had to fight the urge to cry. 'What's the matter with me?' she wondered.

He smiled at her. "Okay, go lie on the couch and I'll be in as soon as I've cleaned this up." The fact that she didn't protest indicated just how tired she was.

Her eyes were closed when he came into the living room, but they popped open as soon as she sensed his presence. Patting the seat beside her, she shifted to make room for him. He sat down and she snuggled into his side with a sigh. Putting his arms around her, he moved around until he was half reclining with her lying across him. She leaned her head back and kissed his jaw. Turning his head, his lips met hers in a sweet kiss. Slipping her tongue into his mouth, she moaned as his tongue curled around hers and her senses sang.

She felt so good in his arms. It had been more than a week since he'd allowed himself to hold her like this or to give her more than the briefest kiss. He groaned as she unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hand inside to stroke his chest. When her hand started moving downward he forced himself to pull back.

"Temperance, honey, stop," he said raggedly. She murmured a protest as he caught her hand and kissed it. "You're not up for this," he said gently.

She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. "I know," she confessed. "I just—miss this—more than I ever thought I could. Can we just—lay here together?"

He smiled softly. "I'm not going anywhere." Gathering her close, he shifted a bit to get comfortable. With a sigh of contentment she settled into him. In just a few moments she was softly snoring and he closed his eyes, laying his cheek on her soft hair. He couldn't imagine anywhere he'd rather be.

Booth presented himself to Cullen first thing the next morning. The deputy director looked up at him with a determined look. He knew why Booth was here.

"Sir, I'd like to be reassigned to liaise with the Jeffersonian," Booth said respectfully.

Cullen sighed, frustrated even though he'd expected this. "Agent Booth, has your relationship with Dr. Brennan changed since we spoke last?"

Booth's mouth was grim. "No, sir. I still love her and I hope to convince her to marry me one day."

"And what makes you think my opinion on this subject has changed?" he asked gruffly.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Cullen nodded. "It's killing me, not being able to be there to keep her safe. She could have been killed!"

Closing his eyes, Cullen's head dropped forward. He wished he could do give Booth what he wanted, but something told him it would be a mistake. He sighed regretfully and looked up. "I'm sorry, Booth. Request denied."

"But sir, I don't think you understand—" Booth protested hotly.

Cullen's spine stiffened. "Understand? Excuse me, but I think you're the one who doesn't understand! Dr. Brennan's expertise is crucial to our investigations. Damn near irreplaceable. I'm not willing to risk losing her because you're sleeping with her."

"I don't appreciate you trivializing my feelings for her—" Booth said heatedly.

"Trivializing? No, Agent Booth, I think I can say with a fair amount of certainty that I know the depth of your feelings for her. I'm not saying you can't be involved with her romantically. I just can't let you work with her. There's too much at stake."

Booth stood there breathing heavily, clenching and unclenching his fists. It took all of his self control not to pull his boss up out of his chair and bash his face until he changed his mind. The mental image alone was satisfying enough that he was able to calm down a little.

"I've already assigned Agent Schmidt to the Jeffersonian," Cullen said, thankfully unaware of Booth's fantasy. "He'll go by there as soon as she's back at work. Now, don't you have some cases that need your attention?" he finished, weary to his very soul. With a final furious look, Booth stormed out.


	9. Chapter 9

Secret No More

Chapter 9

It took all morning for Brennan to catch up on all the paperwork that had piled up in her absence. She was glad she had kept up with the emails from home, otherwise she would have been at it all day. Angela had already come in for a chat earlier and Zach and Hodgins had each come by to let her know they were glad she was back. Shutting down her computer, she picked up her bag and coat and headed for the door. Booth was meeting her at the diner for lunch. Her spirits lifted at the prospect of seeing him.

"Dr. Brennan?" She turned to watch a man in his early forties wearing a dark suit approach. He had piercing blue eyes and his dark hair was short. She guessed immediately who he was.

"Yes, Agent Schmidt isn't it?" she asked politely, shaking his hand. "Do you have a case for us?" He regarded her seriously.

"Pleased to meet you. No, we don't have a case yet. Deputy Director Cullen thought I should come by and introduce myself. Were you on your way out?" he asked, noticing the coat and bag.

"Yes, I'm meeting someone for lunch." He looked at her expectantly, obviously waiting for her to invite him to join them. She wasn't in the mood. "Well, it was nice to meet you. I've got to go--I'm going to be late," she said, turning away.

"I was hoping we could discuss some ground rules for our partnership," he said impatiently.

She looked back at him. "I'm sorry, I wish you had called. I'm afraid I can't break my lunch date. It's important." To me, she added silently, but he didn't need to know that.

He looked a bit put out by her stubbornness, but covered it quickly. "I apologize, of course you're right. Can I come back this afternoon?"

Brennan suppressed a sigh. Agent Schmidt was persistent. "That would be fine. Now, if you'll excuse me?" she asked, and then she was gone without waiting for a reply. Agent Schmidt stood there watching her leave. He'd heard she was difficult. And stubborn. But he could be stubborn too.

Booth and Brennan sat in their favorite booth. Taking a bite, she smiled at him.

He smiled too, glad to see she seemed to be feeling much better. "How are the squints?" he asked. He never thought he'd miss them so much. Kinda like a sore tooth that's been pulled.

"They're fine. Zach said to tell you 'Hi' and Hodgins wanted to know when you were coming by. He said 'Just because he can't harass us over a case, doesn't mean he can't come harass us over other stuff.' Or something like that." Booth grinned over her impression of Hodgins.

"I'll try to drop by sometime this week. You're not working too hard, are you? I don't want you to overdo it your first day back," he said seriously.

"No, I'm taking it easy. There isn't much to do since we haven't got a case." Her look was pensive. "I met Agent Schmidt."

Booth raised his brows. "Really? What did you think of him?"

Brennan shrugged. "It was only for a couple minutes, but he seemed—stodgy."

He frowned. "I suppose he might seem that way at first. I worked a case with him last year. He's very good."

"He's coming back to the lab this afternoon. He wants to go over some ground rules for our partnership. I can't say I like the sound of that," she said dubiously.

Booth sighed. "Give the guy a chance. You might like him."

"I'll try. All I know is, he's not you, so he's already got one hit against him," she said with a smile.

"Strike, Bones, he has one strike against him," he corrected, chuckling, pleased to be the standard she held the others to.

Brennan decided his ego didn't need any more pumping. "Still, if he's as good as you say he is, we should get along just fine. And I thought you weren't going to call me Bones any more," she reminded him.

He had the grace to look ashamed of himself. "Sorry, old habit. I thought you were going to call me Seeley from now on," he countered.

"It's hard to get used to 'Seeley'. It doesn't suit you nearly as well as 'Booth' does," she said, a smile teasing her lips. "Did you know if means 'fun-loving'? I looked it up."

He straightened, feigning a hurt look. "So? I'm fun-loving."

She smiled softly. "I know. I just love to give you a hard time."

"I miss you too," he said teasingly.

"I didn't say I missed you," she argued.

"You didn't have to," he grinned that cocky grin. "I could see it in your face."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "You're just saying that to irritate me."

"No, I'm not. You had this look—" he teased, making a funny face.

"I did not!" she began, getting irritated until she saw the glint in his eye. Her lips quirked and she laughed throatily. "Meanie. Anyway, I need to get back to the lab. Agent Schmidt is probably waiting for me."

He leaned in to kiss her softly. "I love you. Call me later and let me know how it goes with Schmidt."

She smiled. "I love you, too. I'll see you at home." He watched her leave and tried to push away the feeling that she wasn't going to be happy with Schmidt. His gut was telling him it wouldn't go well, but he chalked that up to jealousy. Or maybe wishful thinking.

She had just gotten situated at her desk and her computer booted up when Agent Schmidt tapped on her door jamb.

"Come in, Agent Schmidt, have a seat." She tried to inject a friendly tone, but it sounded flat to her ears. If he noticed, he didn't let on.

Sitting down, he kept his back ramrod straight and got right down to business. "I don't know how you did things with your other partners, and frankly, I'm not interested in hearing about it. Deputy Director Cullen and I had a long talk and there are some ground rules we felt needed to be laid out before we begin—"

"Would you like some coffee?" she asked, just to break up what she sensed was going to be a long winded listing of 'do's and don'ts'.

Agent Schmidt frowned at the interruption. "No, thank you, I don't drink coffee. As I was saying, there are some basic rules we felt—"

"Then some ice water? Or a soda?" she asked. Maybe she was being childish, but she really didn't want to be given a list of rules like some kindergartener on the first day of school.

Agent Schmidt shifted impatiently. "No, thank you. Dr. Brennan, Deputy Director Cullen told me we weren't to proceed until I made things clear to you—"

"Okay," she said, resigned to the inevitable. She folded her hands, assuming a listening demeanor.

Agent Schmidt took a deep breath, determined not to let her get to him. "Good. First of all, I will come by the lab at least once a day, probably early afternoon, to get an update on the progress made on the case. I'd like you to try to be here to go over the data with me. If for some reason you can't be here, I would appreciate a phone call."

She nodded when he paused. He continued, aware thanks to Cullen's warning that this next point was not going to sit well with her. "Second, when it comes to field work, you will only come with me when there is a crime scene to process. You will not be allowed to accompany me when I go to interrogate witnesses or suspects." Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. "You will definitely not be allowed to accompany me when my team and I go to apprehend a suspect." Her temper flared and her eyes narrowed. "You will not carry a firearm—"

That was the last straw. "Now, wait just a damn minute!" she shouted, angrier than she'd ever been before. "Booth and I had a deal—"

"Booth isn't your partner any more," Schmidt reminded her calmly. "Deputy Director Cullen doesn't feel you have the necessary training to—"

"I _knew_ he was going to pull something like this!" she said hotly. "He's just been waiting for a chance to exclude me from the field work. Wait until I get a hold of him. He can't do this to me—"

"He can and he is," Schmidt interrupted in that steady tone that just infuriated her more. He stood, straightening his tie and buttoning his jacket. "Now, I have an appointment I need to get to. I'll let you know when we have a case." He turned to go, but she wasn't done with him. She jumped to her feet.

"Agent Schmidt, if you think I'll meekly follow your edicts, you're wrong," she said in a dangerously soft voice. She tried to reason with him one last time. "If you gave it a chance, I think you'd find I'm an asset in the field."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I guess we'll never find out. I have my orders and I intend to follow them. I'm not willing to lose my job over you." With that, he turned and left, leaving Brennan fuming and looking for something to hit.

**Okay, next chap will have a bit of fluff as Brennan goes home to vent to Booth. Then we're gonna have some fun with Cullen. See the little blue button? It's just begging to be clicked. Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: OK, sorry this took a bit longer than usual. My muse is in a bad mood, pouting in the corner. I was lucky enough to get some input from a fellow writer, so here it is. Oh, as usual I want to thank all my faithful reviewers, jerseybones, brennanmars, christmasinhollywood, btvsfifi and all the rest—I love you all! No, seriously, I love you and love the reviews 'cuz they make me smile!**

Secret No More

Chapter 10

If Cullen had known she was going to show up in his office, he would have found someplace else he needed to be. Urgently. He wasn't a coward and he didn't usually try to avoid confrontation, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with her, especially if she was mad. But he had no warning and he resigned himself to dealing with her as well as he could under the circumstances.

"Mr. Cullen, we need to discuss these 'ground rules' that Agent Schmidt gave me this afternoon," she began in a deceptively calm voice. Cullen could tell by the flush in her cheeks and the firm line of her mouth that she was barely controlling her temper. He suppressed a sigh and wondered how quickly Booth could get here if he called him right now. But then the problem would be holding her off until then. He discarded the idea. Booth probably wouldn't be much help anyway. He was on _her_ side.

"Dr. Brennan, won't you have a seat?" he asked, hoping she'd remain calm if she was seated.

"No, thank you, I'm not staying long." She took a deep breath and plunged in. "I don't think you realize that one of the most important aspects of my partnership with Booth was the field work. Just ask Booth—my help in the field often led to solving the case. Restricting me to the lab could seriously hinder the investigation." She was proud of the reasonable tone of voice she was able to maintain. Shouting and getting emotional wouldn't solve anything, she reminded herself.

"Do I need to remind you that being out in the field has also put you in danger many times over the last couple years? Field agents go through rigorous training in handling dangerous situations. Have you had any training?" he asked.

She folded her arms. "I'm trained in three martial arts disciplines and I'm an expert marksman—"

"Do you know the proper way to enter a building to minimize the danger of being shot or physically attacked?" he demanded, though he already knew the answer.

She frowned. "No," then she brightened. "But I'd be willing to learn whatever you think I need to know in order to be cleared to go into the field."

Cullen sighed in frustration. "You're not with the FBI—"

"I know that, so what makes you think you can tell me what to do?" she interrupted, her calm demeanor beginning to crack.

He stiffened. "I'm not telling you what to do—"

"Yes, you are. Limiting my field work and telling me I can't carry a gun—"

"Both issues that are well within my purview," he asserted. That brought her up short. Damn, he was right. After a moment she rallied.

"So, that's your reason for doing it? Because you can?" Her voice was rising.

"No, that's not it." His gaze was level. "Look, Dr. Brennan, your expertise is very important to the cases we bring to the Jeffersonian. Without it, it would be harder if not downright impossible to solve the cases. I'm concerned for your safety."

His honesty disarmed her. She had no idea how to counter that. "You're making another mistake. First breaking me and Booth up and now this." She stepped closer to his desk, forcing him to tilt his head at an uncomfortable angle. "Now, I'm well within _my purview_ to request that Dr. Saroyan assign another forensic anthropologist to liaise with the FBI. I hope Schmidt enjoys working with Dr. Addy."

Cullen frowned. He'd never met Dr. Addy, but he suspected he wasn't going to like him. "Is he any good?"

Brennan smiled a little, sensing she had the upper hand for the first time since she'd walked in. "He's a genius—literally. Of course, he doesn't have a lot of experience since he only recently received his doctorate, but he did spend several years as my assistant. It should be fine," she said, halfway hoping it wouldn't. It was time Cullen felt what it was like having someone else calling the shots. "Well, I'll be going now. I have some World War I skeletons awaiting identification." With that she was gone. Cullen sat staring for a long moment, then he picked up the phone. He wasn't going to take this lying down.

Brennan decided not to waste any time. She found Cam in her office doing paperwork. She had been working with her for a year now and after a shaky start, they had developed a working relationship that, while not close, was at least harmonious for the most part. They each had a healthy respect for the other's knowledge and expertise and Cam had learned to give Brennan a lot of leeway. That was about to change.

"Hi, Dr. Brennan, I'm glad you're here. I was about to send for you. Have a seat," she directed. Brennan sat down warily. Cam rarely sent for her.

"I wanted to talk to you about assigning Zach to liaise with the FBI," Brennan began. Cam's next words stopped her cold.

"I know. Deputy Director Cullen just called. He wants me to deny your request," Cam said, bracing herself for the argument to come.

Brennan's blood pressure shot up. "I suppose you're going to do as he says," she said, anger just simmering under the surface.

Cam made a helpless gesture. "I see no reason not to—unless you have a good one?"

Brennan shot up out of her chair. "It's this new liaison, Agent Schmidt. He's going to exclude me from all of the field work!"

Cam sighed. She should have expected this. "Dr. Brennan, I'm afraid I agree with Cullen. You aren't trained for field work and it has put you in danger too many times." Brennan glowered at her. Cam sighed again. "Would you please just try it his way for awhile? I promise, if it's not working, I'll speak to Cullen personally."

Brennan's lips were pursed in frustration. "Fine. We'll see if it works. Don't be surprised if it doesn't. Now, I'm going home." She turned to leave and Cam moved around behind the desk and sat down. Goodman had warned her there'd be days like these.

Brennan was pacing the living room when Booth came home. Dropping his keys on the table by the door, he hung his suit jacket on the coat rack by the door. He approached her warily. Anger and frustration were radiating from her in waves.

"What's the matter?' he asked, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

She stopped mid stride. "Schmidt and Cullen are going to exclude me from the field work and Cam is allowing it!" she exclaimed.

Booth tried not to show how relieved he was over this bit of news. At least she would be safe, he thought. But that left him to deal with a very angry Brennan. "Now, Temperance, calm down. Why don't you give it a chance?"

Her face was flushed and her eyes blazed with fury. He thought briefly how beautiful she was when she was like this. Until he was the target of her ire, like now.

"If one more person tells me to give it a chance, I'm going to scream!" she shouted. She really thought Booth would be on her side. She should have realized it would satisfy his protectiveness to see her confined to the lab.

Booth pulled off his tie and unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his shirt. "Stop being so selfish, Bones. We're all just concerned about your safety."

"Selfish!" she yelled, insulted.

Booth groaned. He'd just made it worse. "Okay, wrong word. What I mean is, you should try to see it from our point of view. You're reckless sometimes—"

"I'm not some defenseless, fragile little woman. I don't need to be coddled!" She looked like she wanted to hit something. Or someone. He wondered if maybe he should make himself scarce until she calmed down.

No. He decided if anyone could calm her down, it was him. "Hey, it's me," he said in a soothing tone. "I know that." He caught her hand and squeezed. "You're a very capable, strong woman who doesn't seem to know her own limitations. You tend to leap before you look and it's almost gotten you killed more than once."

That took the fight out of her. She had no answer for that. Booth pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back. She accepted his embrace, grateful for the comfort. He felt the tension slowly seep away. She pulled back to look up at him. "Do you think I made any contributions in the field?"

He looked down at her for a long moment, loosening his hold on her as he considered the best way to answer her. She wouldn't accept anything less than the truth, but he wasn't sure how she was going to take it.

"I loved having you with me in the field, Bo—Temperance. But there was a cost. Being in a dangerous situation is incredibly stressful, but add to that my concern for your safety, and it was difficult at times. But I accepted that when I agreed to take you into the field with me. It was a trade off in order to get your cooperation."

She pulled away and folded her arms. "Are you saying I was a hindrance? You never said—"

He sighed. She seemed determined to take his words and twist them on him. "I wouldn't say a hindrance. Yes, there were times I wished you would stay in the car, but many times it turned out that it was better that you insisted on coming along. You saved my life more than once."

Her gaze bounced up to his and she was warmed by the sincerity she found there. She stepped up close to him. "I'm glad I was there to save you," she said softly. Looking down, she sighed. "I suppose I could try it their way. But I won't give up hope that they will find it harder to solve the cases."

He wrapped his arms around her again and sighed, relieved the storm had passed. He tried to share in her hope, but a little part of him still wanted her safe in the lab rather than out in the field getting shot at.

**Please R&R, you know, click the lonely little blue button down there and make my muse happy so she'll quit pouting and get busy.**


	11. Chapter 11

Secret No More

Chapter 11

Agent Schmidt didn't make an appearance for four glorious, tension-free days. But Brennan was all caught up on her paperwork and had completed three unknown soldier identifications and she was getting bored. Frankly, she was beginning to look forward to him coming in with a case just to break up the monotony.

She looked up expectantly when he knocked on her doorjamb. "Come in, Agent Schmidt."

As sharply dressed as ever, he walked in and stopped in front of her desk. "Are you available to process a crime scene?" he asked, standing stiffly erect. She wondered what his problem was.

"Sure," she replied, grabbing her bag and coat. "I'll see if Dr. Addy can accompany us. You can fill us in on the way."

Agent Schmidt's demeanor did nothing to alleviate the tense atmosphere in the car. "Some kids started a fire in an abandoned apartment building slated for demolition next month. After the firemen put out the fire, they found a badly burned body."

"How do they know kids started the fire? Were there witnesses?" Brennan asked.

"Yes, a lady driving by saw two kids exiting the building acting suspiciously. Unfortunately, they were gone before the authorities arrived. A police sketch artist is already working with her." His gaze was fixed on the road and Brennan tried to be patient. Getting information out of him was difficult.

"Have they determined how the fire was set?" Zach asked from the back seat.

"They doused an old couch with alcohol and set it on fire."

"How close to the origin of the fire did they find the body?" Brennan asked, working hard to keep her tone civil. He was parceling out information like it was gold.

"The body was found on the couch."

Brennan's brows went up. "Really? There can't be much left of the body then."

"That's why they called you in. There isn't enough left to identify by conventional methods." He still hadn't looked at her. What was his problem?

Brennan's mouth pursed. He wanted to be that way? Fine by her. She'd wait until they got to the crime scene and figure things out for herself.

Brennan and Zach got down to work right away. The remains were half reclined on the couch, almost as though the victim had fallen or been pushed onto it. A large depression on the left parietal bone indicated that the victim had suffered a sharp blow to the head.

"Victim is an adolescent, fifteen to eighteen years old," Brennan observed. "What's in his hand?" she wondered, gently prying at the curled fingers. "A bracelet. There's a name on it—looks like 'Kyle'. Wonder if that's his name." She bagged it and continued her preliminary examination. "I think he was unconscious when the fire was set. We'll know more after we've done a more thorough examination."

When they moved the body to put it in the body bag, Zach found glass fragments underneath it. He carefully collected them and put them in an envelope. The victim's wallet was in his back pocket, somewhat burned. Opening it, Zach found a partially melted driver's license and a couple pictures along with a few one dollar bills.

"Angela may be able to get something off the driver's license," Brennan observed. Zach bagged and tagged it. Looking around one last time, Brennan sighed. There didn't seem to be anything else left that would help them. Gathering their kits and the evidence, they followed the gurney with the body bag on it. Agent Schmidt joined them as they made their way to the SUV. Brennan pushed down her irritation that he had made himself scarce during their preliminary examination. She didn't want to get into it in front of Zach.

The squints worked diligently for the remainder of the day. Agent Schmidt, true to his word, came by the next afternoon for an update. Brennan was trying, but she found his cold, clinical attitude off-putting. And people thought she was cold and clinical? She was downright warm compared to him. He came to her office for the briefing.

"Angela was able to determine the victim's identity by scanning in the driver's license and enhancing the image," Brennan said. Agent Schmidt sat ramrod straight in the chair in front of her desk, an attentive look on his face, notepad and pen held at the ready. "Kyle Sims was seventeen, six foot two, one hundred ninety pounds. He lived in a middle class neighborhood and a check of his DMV record indicates no traffic violations. A search of the missing children's database revealed that he'd been reported missing the day of the fire."

Taking quick notes, Agent Schmidt looked up when she paused. "Cause of death?"

"Smoke inhalation. He was struck with a glass bottle, knocking him unconscious and he fell on the couch."

"Anything else?"

Brennan held up a clear plastic evidence bag. "We found this girl's bracelet clutched in his right hand." He took the bag, turning it over. Brennan went on. "Boys sometimes give their girlfriends bracelets with their names on them. It's a way of claiming ownership—"

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan." Agent Schmidt stood up, putting the bag in his pocket. "If there's nothing else, I've got some phone calls to make and some people to question. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon." He paused a moment for her reaction, but when she just stared at him, he headed for the door. Brennan considered and discarded several biting remarks.

"Agent Schmidt," she said when she found her voice. He stopped and turned. "Sometimes it helps the investigation if you understand the anthropological reasons people do the things they do."

He stared at her for a long moment. "That, Dr. Brennan, is your area. Oh, would you please email your findings to me as soon as you have a chance?" At her nod, he was gone.

Brennan's temper was at a low simmer. The man was an insufferable, arrogant, egotistical asshole.

It was her turn to cook and she decided she needed the catharsis of cooking something elaborate. Stopping at the market, she picked up the makings for eggplant parmesan, some garlic bread and salad greens. She turned on some soft jazz and got busy in the kitchen. Soon she was humming to the music, her mood happier than it had been all day.

She was sliding the pan of eggplant parmesan into the oven when a large pair of hands grabbed her ass. Straightening suddenly, she bit back a squeal. Turning, she smacked Booth lightly in the shoulder. He grinned at her unrepentantly.

"You startled me!" she scolded. She pushed the oven door closed with her hip as his arms came around her to pull her close.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist such a fine ass," he said. His eyes dropped to her lips and she licked them in anticipation. His pulse jumped and he kissed her lingeringly as his hands roamed freely over the ass in question. Her tongue slid into his mouth to stroke his and her hands came around to grab his ass too. She broke the kiss to smile up at him.

"Yours is pretty fine too," she said huskily. He smiled and pulled her closer so she could feel his arousal. She glanced at the clock. They had thirty minutes before dinner would be ready. Smiling up at him slyly, she pulled away and grabbed his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

She brushed his hands away when he tried to undress her and he stood mutely watching as she slowly removed her clothes. He worked at the buttons on his own shirt, but kept forgetting what he was doing as each article of her clothing was removed. Each time he tried to touch her, she gently pushed his hands away. When she was completely nude, she turned her attention to his shirt, which he'd finally managed to unbutton. Taking her time, she unbuttoned his cuffs and pushed his shirt off, then undid his belt and opened his trousers. She smiled saucily as she slid her hand into his boxers and stroked him.

That was it. He'd had enough. With a growl of frustration, he shucked the rest of his clothes and took her into his arms, pressing his hot, open mouth to her neck. She hummed with pleasure, tilting her head to the side. Sliding her hands up his back to his shoulders, she clung to him as his mouth moved to her collarbone and nibbled across her shoulder. Moaning with intense pleasure, she hooked her leg around his and turned them both to fall on the bed.

Chuckling a little, enjoying her boldness, he rolled her to her back and took a moment to look at her. Her beautiful crystal blue eyes were shining up at him and her chestnut hair tumbled around her lovely face. He kissed her smiling lips, then her chin, then up her jaw to her earlobe which he nibbled. Propping himself on his elbows, his gaze became serious as he slowly, achingly entered her, holding her hips so she couldn't rush it. When she thought she was going to scream at the drawn-out process, he gave one last thrust, making her gasp. Her eyes flew wide at the incredible sensations that were pulsing through her.

"I love you," he whispered tenderly as he began a slow, steady rhythm.

Tears pricked her eyelids. "I love you too," she replied huskily. His warm brown eyes studied her intently, watching the play of emotions on her face as he showed her with his body just how much he loved her. She cried out his name as she climaxed and he groaned as the pleasure of his own release crashed through him.

An insistent beeping caused Brennan to stir. "The dinner," she murmured, struggling to push Booth off. He curled a hand around her breast.

"Let it burn," he mumbled, boneless with satisfaction.

Brennan pushed at his shoulder again. "No. I worked hard on it. Now, let me up," she insisted. Groaning, Booth rolled to his back. She got up and pulled his shirt on, buttoning it as she hurried to rescue the eggplant parmesan. Booth sighed deeply, more content than he could ever remember being.

"This is delicious," Booth said, savoring another bite of the eggplant.

Brennan smiled. "Thank you. I felt like trying something new." They ate in companionable silence for awhile.

Suddenly, Booth saw her frown. "What's the matter?" he asked, somehow knowing it was about work. He was right.

"Schmidt is being impossible about the case," she said.

Booth frowned too. "How so?"

"Well, we found a girl's bracelet with the victim's name on it in the victim's hand, and when I tried to tell him the significance of it, he cut me off, like it had no bearing on the case," she said, puzzled.

Booth took a sip of wine as he thought about that. "Did you get all technical like you always do? Maybe he didn't understand."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "No, I kept it pretty simple. I merely tried to point out that teenage boys often give that kind of a thing to a girlfriend to stake a claim. He should be looking for the girlfriend. I'll bet she knows something about what happened."

Booth agreed. "The fact that the boy was holding the bracelet tells me the girlfriend was probably there when he was killed. Schmidt needs to question the parents of the boy and any friends he can locate to find out the girl's name."

"Exactly. But Schmidt completely shut me down. He didn't want to hear my opinion."

Booth sighed, understanding her frustration. "Give it a little time, babe. He'll learn the value of your input."

Brennan shook her head. "Not if he won't even listen, Booth. He could waste a lot of time and meanwhile the killer is on the loose."

"Why don't you put it in your report? You know he reads those, and if your input is as logical as I'm sure it is, he can't help but act on it."

Brennan smiled, pleased. "I like that idea. Thanks, I think I'll do that."

The cocky grin was back. "See, all you had to do was talk to me. Still miss me?" he asked.

She leaned over to kiss him softly. "More than you know, Booth."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Okay, I'm sorry this is short, but it broke at a good point. I had lots of fun writing this part, sadistic of me to enjoy Agent Schmidt's squirming, but hey, what can I say? I want to thank all my faithful reviewers, I'd name you guys, but I always seem to forget someone, just know that I really love you all and appreciate the time you take to review. Don't worry the next chap will be posted later today or tomorrow night.**

Secret No More

Chapter 12

Brennan stepped up on the platform, buttoning her lab coat. Zach was measuring the depression in the left parietal bone. Since they already had an ID on the vic, Angela really had nothing to do, so she was sitting next to Hodgins, looking on as he worked on identifying the glass fragments. Brennan went to stand next to Zach.

"So, Zach, have you determined what the victim was struck with?"

He glanced up at her distractedly, a frown between his brows. "I'm fairly certain it was a glass bottle and I think the glass fragments found under the body came from it. Hodgins is trying to determine the type of bottle so we can get the dimensions to match them to the depression in the bone."

Hodgins turned from his station. "It was a beer bottle," he informed them. "Pretty standard size and shape, so it was probably Coors or Michelob."

Brennan frowned thoughtfully. "The fact that the glass was under the body means he was probably standing when he was struck. The blow had to be pretty hard to shatter the bottle and cause such a deep depression. How tall was he?" she asked Angela.

"Six foot two."

"His attacker had to be close to his height or taller. I wonder how tall the girlfriend is…" Brennan said.

"Maybe Agent Schmidt has located her by now. Why don't you give him a call?" Angela suggested.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I guess it's worth a try. He's just very frustrating to talk to. Half the time he won't listen to me."

Angela gave her a sympathetic look. "You know you're right—you just have to make him listen. He doesn't know you like Booth does, Bren. Give it time."

Brennan's mouth pursed with frustration. "We may not have time. If his refusal to listen to me delays solving the case, the murderer may not get caught." She sighed and headed for her office to make a phone call she wasn't looking forward to.

"Schmidt," was the curt reply. Brennan took another calming breath.

"This is Dr. Brennan. I was wondering if you'd located the victim's girlfriend yet—"

"Yes, we arrested her this morning. She confessed to killing Kyle Sims when they had an argument—"

Brennan blew out a breath. "Wait, you arrested her?" she said incredulously. "But I haven't sent my final report—"

"Don't need it," he interrupted rudely. "The girl confessed, claiming self defense, case closed. I appreciate your help—"

It was Brennan's turn to be rude. "How tall is she?" she asked abruptly, barely holding her temper in check.

There was a long pause. "What does that have to with it? Look, Dr. Brennan, I think all your science stuff is great, but it doesn't take the place of good old fashioned investigative techniques. The witness identified Candace Monroe as one of the two fleeing the scene and the girl confessed—"

"How tall is she?" Brennan demanded in a louder voice.

"I don't know, five-four, five-five maybe? Why?"

"Kyle Sims killer was close to his own height, between five-eleven and six-four. So you just arrested the wrong person," she finished, trying to keep the satisfied tone out of her voice.

Silence. Brennan couldn't help the smile that stole across her features. Take that, Mr. FBI man!

"Well, uh, if you're sure—" he said doubtfully, unable to accept that his case had just taken a turn he hadn't anticipated.

"The victim was struck with a beer bottle while he was standing. We know this because of the glass shards found under the body. Candace Monroe is too short. What about the other kid seen fleeing the scene?" she asked pointedly.

"Uh, he's been identified as Tyler Monroe, the girlfriend's older brother. He's missing," Agent Schmidt said. His voice had definitely lost that superior, patronizing tone.

Brennan tried not to gloat too much. "Did Miss Monroe have any defensive wounds?"

"Defensive wounds? Uh, I don't know, she had long sleeves and it didn't occur to me—"

Brennan sighed. "I doubt she has any. Agent Schmidt, I suggest you check her for defensive wounds and then see if you can make her tell you where her brother is. I believe he is your murderer," she said with satisfaction.

Another long pause in which Brennan savored her victory. Just let him try to belittle her contributions to the investigation after this!

"Well, yes, I suppose you might have something there. Thank you for your help. I'll keep you apprised of any progress I make—" he said hesitantly.

Brennan smiled. "You do that, Agent Schmidt. And don't hesitate to call if there's anything else I can help you with." Then she hung up, happier than she'd been since they'd broken her and Booth up. Wait until Cullen hears about this, she thought triumphantly.

**Wasn't that fun? So, you know what to do—click the little blue button and tell me what you think.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Okay, I'm sorry if you think Brennan's being a bit of a 'drama queen' at the end of this chapter, but I really don't think so. Let me know. Anyway, thank you to all of my faithful reviewers: christmasinhollywood, jerseybones, bennanmars, btvsfifi, flyersfan, snoopgirl, bonesbblover, and angel's blue eyed girl (sorry if I missed anyone) you guys are the BEST! I live for your reviews. I mean it.**

Secret No More

Chapter 13

"And then he said 'I suppose you might have something there. Thank you. I'll keep you apprised of any progress I make' and I said 'Don't hesitate to call if there's anything else I can help you with,'" Brennan told Booth with a grin.

Booth chuckled. "Good for you." They were snuggled up on the couch after dinner. Brennan was in the best mood she'd been in in weeks.

"Do you think he'll tell Cullen? He has to, doesn't he?" she asked, suddenly worried.

"It's hard to say, babe. I've never worked with Schmidt. He's gotta be a little embarrassed, you showing him up like that. He may try to cover his a$$."

Brennan sat up and turned to face him. "You must be joking! You think he's going to try to hide my involvement in solving the case? That's just wrong!" she said indignantly.

"You and I know that, but he may not see it that way." He stroked her cheek. "Hey," he said softly, "there's no use worrying about something that may not happen."

She sat stiffly for another long moment, eyes far away, then she focused on him. She smiled faintly. "You're right." She leaned forward and kissed him. "What would I do without you?" she murmured.

He pulled her close. "You'll never have to find out, if I have anything to say about it." His smile faded and was replaced by a tender look and then his lips captured hers as he pulled her across his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened to him, drawing his tongue deep and stroking it with her own. He groaned and slid down until they were stretched out on the couch, flush against each other from chest to toes. He pulled back, leaning up on an elbow. Her eyes were sparkling with desire, her cheeks were flushed and her lips were parted, waiting for his kiss. He caressed her cheek and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. She nipped his thumb playfully and his passion soared. With a moan he slid his arm under her and pulled her to him tightly. Threading her fingers into his hair, she pulled him down and kissed him. They never made it to the bedroom and neither of them cared.

Brennan waited for Cullen to call all morning. She tried to focus on the report she needed to write, but her thoughts kept returning to Schmidt and what he might be up to. Her phone finally rang at eleven.

"Brennan," she said, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

"This is Agent Schmidt. I thought you should know, we apprehended Tyler Monroe this morning. With the sister's help we were able to get him to confess," he said, sounding immensely pleased with himself.

Brennan noticed he didn't mention her contribution to the case. She fought the anger that was threatening to overwhelm her. "Good. So was I right about the chain of events?" she asked pointedly.

"The girl tried to get money out of the kid by claiming she was pregnant and needed to get an abortion," Schmidt said, ignoring her attempt to claim credit. "When Kyle refused, implying that she was lying, Tyler hit him with the bottle. He claims he didn't mean to hit him so hard, and when Kyle collapsed, he thought he was dead. He panicked and tried to cover up the crime by setting the fire."

In spite of her problem with his attitude, she was glad the case was solved. "Great. Well, my report is complete. I'll send it over right away."

"That's fine, Dr. Brennan. I'll let you know when our next case comes in," he said, apparently anxious to hang up.

Brennan's mouth pursed. The man was an insufferable ass. "Agent Schmidt?"

"Hmmm?" he said; his mind had obviously already moved on.

"You and I know who really solved this case. Don't think for a minute I'm not going to make sure Cullen knows it too," she threatened softly.

Silence. Then, "The case is solved. Does it really matter how that was accomplished?" he asked in a placating tone.

Brennan took a deep, calming breath. "Yes, it matters. I'm not going to stand by while you trivialize the hard work and dedication of me and my colleagues. Without us, you wouldn't have caught the real killer."

Another pause. "There's no need to be that way. If we're going to continue to work together—"

"That remains to be seen," she said coldly, and then she hung up, fuming.

Calling up her report on the computer, she composed her email and sent it to Cullen. She'd give him a day to review it, then she'd go see him.

Cullen finally called at nine the next morning. "Dr. Brennan, I just finished reading your report on the Sims case and I have some questions."

Brennan sat up straight in her chair. "Go ahead," she prompted.

"Your report says essentially that there was no way Candace Monroe could have been the killer. Why, then, did you tell Schmidt to arrest her?" he asked, obviously puzzled.

Brennan ground her teeth in frustration. "I didn't. Agent Schmidt did that on his own," she said, striving to keep her tone reasonable.

"Really? That's not what his report says."

"Then he lied in his report. Tell me, Mr. Cullen, do you think I would have advised Agent Schmidt to arrest her if my findings clearly indicated she wasn't the killer?" she asked patiently.

"Uh, no, that doesn't sound like you at all. Which is why I'm talking to you. Do you have any idea why Schmidt might have put that in his report?"

"Mr. Cullen, I don't claim to have any insight into Agent Schmidt's thought processes, but I will tell you this. He has no respect for the work that we do here and has no idea what it means to work as a team. I would like you to assign us a different liaison. I can't work with that man. He's an arrogant, egotistical and pompous ass," she said coldly.

Cullen sighed loudly. "At this rate, Dr. Brennan, I think I'm going to run out of agents before you find one that you can work with." He paused thoughtfully. "You know, I seem to recall you had the same initial opinion of Booth when you started working with him."

Brennan narrowed her eyes, her temper at a boiling point. "Booth was never this bad," she stated firmly. "He has never made me feel that my expertise was inconsequential to solving the case. We may have had a rocky start, but he's a smart man. It didn't take him long to see the value of our work here."

"True. By the end of your first case together, he'd become your strongest supporter," Cullen allowed. He sighed, already knowing how she was going to take his next words. "You know I can't reassign him to you. This hasn't eliminated any of the reasons I removed him in the first place."

Brennan clenched her fist, controlling the urge to hit something. "What is it going to take?" she asked in a dangerous tone. "A completely botched case? Or my resignation?"

"Dr. Brennan, I don't think you realize, this is for your own good and Booth's too. There are regulations against fraternizing—"

"I don't work for the FBI!" she yelled, clearly at the end of her patience.

"You might as well be," Cullen argued.

Brennan groaned in frustration. "Not for long," she muttered. "Fine," she said more loudly. "I can tell your mind is made up. You'll be hearing from me soon." With that she hung up and got up to pace the confines of her office, which did nothing to alleviate her anger at the situation. Nearly screaming with frustration, she kicked her desk. Dropping into her chair, she grabbed her purse out of her drawer, picked up her coat and headed for the door. There was only one person who could calm her down now.

**So, now click the little blue button and let me know what you think. And you lurkers, I just have to say, it doesn't take long to leave a review and we writer's get such enjoyment out them. So don't be mean and withhold them, okay?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So, the day you all have been waiting for has arrived. Brennan is going o resign and throw a monkey wrench in the works. This chapter went better than the last one. Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews.**

Secret No More

Chapter 14

Booth looked up from the file he was working on when Brennan stormed in and closed the door. One look at her flushed face told him something was wrong. His heart sank.

"That's it!" she said in a low furious voice. "I quit. I don't need this! I'm a respected forensic anthropologist, a best selling author—"

Booth made a placating gesture. "Bones, slow down and tell me what's wrong—"

"I'll tell you what's wrong! Agent Schmidt is a moron who falsified his report and Cullen is nearly as bad." She started pacing, her steps jerky with anger.

Booth got up and moved around the desk toward her. "Here, sit down—"

"I'm not calm enough to sit, Booth," she snapped. Booth put up his hands in surrender.

He stood helplessly watching her as she continued to pace. He'd never seen her this agitated. "Tell me what happened," he said, even though he already suspected.

"Schmidt lied in his report. He claimed he solved the case. And Cullen called and questioned me like it was _my_ decision to arrest Candace Monroe! Like I would do that after the evidence clearly indicated she couldn't be the killer. Does he think I'm stupid?" she asked incredulously. Booth wisely stayed silent as she continued her rant. "Has he forgotten all the cases we solved over the last couple years? And then he said he couldn't reassign you to us."

Booth put his hands on his hips. "Did you think it was going to be that easy to change his mind?" he asked gently. That stopped her in her tracks to throw a glare at him.

"Easy? You think this has been easy?" she demanded, blinking back the tears that sprang to her eyes. She dropped her head forward and took a deep breath. A moment later she looked back up at him. "I'm turning in my resignation. I kept thinking it was going to get better, but it hasn't and I've had enough."

"Are you sure that's what you wanna do? I thought you enjoyed your work at the Jeffersonian."

"I haven't lately, not since they took you away," she said softly with a crack in her voice. "I've tried it Cullen's way and now I'm done."

Booth stepped close, hating the defeated tone in her voice and the slump in her shoulders. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Do what you have to do," he murmured. "I'm behind you all the way. Just be sure this is what you want to do. I'd hate to see you do something you might regret later."

She pursed her lips. "I'm sure. I don't need this frustration." She leaned up and kissed him softly. He wrapped her in his arms and stroked her back soothingly. She felt the anger seep away.

Booth's lips twitched as a thought occurred to him. "Maybe this is just the thing to get Cullen to change his mind. A week or two of dealing with Zach and he'll beg you to come back." Brennan pulled back and raised her eyebrows at him. "Hey, nothin' against Zach, but he can be rather—difficult at times."

"Zach is brilliant. He just has a lot to learn about social interaction," Brennan said loyally. She laid her head back on his shoulder and sighed, marveling at how he balanced her. That's what was missing from every other partnership they had forced on her.

&&&

Agent Schmidt stood stiffly in front of Cullen's desk. Cullen looked up at him tiredly. He was a good agent, but he was obviously lacking the social skills necessary to deal with the 'squints' as Booth called them.

"Agent Schmidt, Would you care to tell me why you arrested Candace Monroe? Dr. Brennan told me the evidence clearly indicated that she couldn't have been the killer."

"Well, actually sir, in view of the eyewitness identifying her and her confession, I thought—"

"Did it occur to you the girl might have been lying to cover for someone? And correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't the eyewitness say she saw _two_ kids leaving the scene?"

Agent Schmidt colored. "Well, yes sir, but the girl was very convincing—"

Cullen was getting angry. "I don't care if she's up for an Oscar. We look at the whole body of evidence before making an arrest. And we don't falsify reports!"

Schmidt's eyes widened. "No, sir! I'm sorry, sir!"

"I ought to suspend you, Agent Schmidt. The only thing saving you from that is the fact that the real killer is behind bars." A smile broke across Schmidt's face which he quickly squelched at Cullen's glare. "I will hold you personally responsible if we lose Dr. Brennan over this stunt of yours," he threatened. Schmidt paled. "You're dismissed."

&&

Brennan was a lot calmer as she walked toward the elevators. Booth had a way of making everything better. She was glad she'd gone to see him. Turning a corner, she slammed full into the last person she wanted to see.

"Dr. Brennan!" Agent Schmidt exclaimed, flustered. "I was just coming to see you."

Brennan felt her anger return full force. "Agent Schmidt," she said coldly.

"I'd—like to apologize—" he stammered.

"It's too late for that, Agent Schmidt. You're only apologizing because you just got your ass chewed," she said, thinking Booth would have been proud of her phraseology.

He stood there with his mouth hanging open as she pushed past him.

&&&

Cam walked into Brennan's office, stopping short as she saw the box Brennan was loading stuff into. Her heart sank. As recently as six months ago she would have been happy to see Brennan leave, but she had come to value her skills and knowledge, and to be completely honest, she had come to like her as a person. She knew she was the last one Brennan would listen to, but she decided she had to try to talk her out of it.

"Going somewhere, Dr. Brennan?" she asked calmly.

Brennan glanced at her, but didn't slow her packing. "Hi, Cam. Yes, my resignation letter is on your desk. I've given Zach the files I've been working on with complete notes on my progress on each of them. I'm sorry about the short notice, but I can't continue to work here under these conditions."

Cam sighed. "I think you might be overreacting. It can't be that bad—"

Brennan slapped the desk in frustration. "Yes, it is! It took some time to get Booth to appreciate the importance of what we do here, but at least he got to that point before I lost patience with him. At the rate things are going, I'm afraid I don't' have enough patience to break in another agent. Maybe Zach will." She turned to pick up an artifact off the shelf, wrapping it in tissue and placing it carefully in the box.

"Zach is brilliant, but he's still learning," Cam said. "We need you, Dr. Brennan. Please reconsider."

Bracing her hands on the edges of the box, Brennan took a deep breath. "I haven't made this decision lightly, Dr. Saroyan. I enjoy my work here and I don't want to leave, but I have no choice. For my own peace of mind, I need to leave." She met Cam's gaze levelly. "You can tell Cullen the only way I would reconsider is if they reassign Booth to the Jeffersonian. That is my only condition."

Cam studied her for a long tense moment. "Fine. I'll see what I can do. But I don't think he's going to change his mind."

Brennan looked around one last time, a sob catching in her throat as the finality of what she was doing hit her. Taking a steadying breath, she put on her coat, grabbed her purse and picked up her box. "I want you to know, in spite of our rocky beginning, I've come to enjoy working with you. I'm going to miss this place."

Cam reached out and squeezed her forearm. "You will be sorely missed. Stay in touch, okay?"

Brennan nodded and headed for the door. Cam watched her go with a sense of foreboding. This was not good.

&&&

Brennan had one more stop to make before leaving. She paused in the doorway of Angela's office. Angela looked up from her computer and gave her a sad smile. "So, there's no way I'm gonna talk you out of this?" she asked one last time. They'd had a talk earlier and Angela already knew what Brennan's answer was going to be.

Brennan set the box on the chair and started around Angela's desk, meeting her halfway. "I'm afraid not, Ange." They hugged tightly.

"Take care of yourself. And that hunky FBI guy of yours, too," Angela murmured tearfully.

Brennan pulled back, blinking back tears. "I will. Hey, don't worry. We'll still see each other."

Angela smiled. "I know, but it won't be the same as seeing you every day, working with you. I'm gonna miss you!" she said as fresh tears flowed.

Brennan told herself she wasn't going to cry even as the tears spilled over. "I'm going to miss you, too. Take care of Hodgins and don't let Zach drive everyone crazy, okay?"

Angela nodded, smiling bravely. "I will. See ya soon?" she asked hopefully.

Brennan smiled softly. "Count on it. Bye," she said, pulling away and squeezing her friend's hand. Angela just nodded, not trusting her voice. Then she was gone.

&&

**Okay, now you know you wanna click that cute little blue button. Some of you lurkers actually left a review last time and really made my little writer's heart sing with happiness. I know, I'm easily amused. Thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks for your patience. This chap is short, I know, but it just seemed to break here naturally. Thank you to all my loyal reviewers and especially to some of the 'lurkers' who posted a review and made me so happy: 0amy0, boothissexxy and acerbond, to name a few. You guys made my day!**

Secret No More

Chapter 15

Cullen took another sip of his coffee and opened the next file. His phone rang.

"Cullen," he said. His eyebrows slammed together and he sat up straighter. "When?" He closed his eyes and rubbed them tiredly. "Okay, yeah, just—go ahead and take Dr. Addy and get the crime scene processed. Let me know how it goes." Hanging up, he scrubbed both hands down his face. Picking up the receiver, he dialed. "Get in here," he snapped and hung up.

Booth tapped on Cullen's door and went in at Cullen's growled "Come in!" He stopped in front of his supervisor's desk and waited tensely. He had a feeling he already knew what had Cullen so upset.

"Agent Booth, why didn't you inform me that your girlfriend resigned yesterday?" Cullen demanded.

Booth took a deep breath. "Well, sir, she doesn't work for you—"

'If one more person tells me that, I'm gonna lose it!' he thought furiously. "I know that, Booth! But that doesn't explain why you let me be blindsided by this!" Cullen said in a low dangerous voice.

"I'm sorry, sir, I just didn't think it was my place—" Booth said, trying to think of some way to defuse his superior's anger.

"Not your place? Like that's ever stopped you before." He sighed. "So, what's it gonna take? Does she want me to restore her field status?"

'Okay, here we go,' Booth thought wearily. "No, sir. I mean, yeah, she wants that too, but she really just wants me restored as liaison—"

"No! Not an option! What makes her think my opinion on that issue has changed? Or does she think she can blackmail me?' Cullen asked angrily.

"No, sir! She wouldn't do that." Cullen's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, it may seem that way, but she told me she quit because the situation was intolerable." Cullen continued to stare at him, waiting for an explanation. "Look, it took time for us to find that rhythm that made us a great team. She tried to find that rhythm with Phillips and again with Schmidt, but it just wasn't there."

Cullen pursed his lips. "Fine. I can't make her come back. But she's no longer the only forensic anthropologist in D.C. I'm sure Dr. Addy is capable of doing the job." Booth couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "What is it, Agent Booth?" Cullen demanded suspiciously.

"Well, sir, while Dr. Addy is brilliant, I think you may find him—difficult," Booth said, still managing somehow to keep the grin off his face.

"Difficult? He couldn't be any more difficult than Dr. Brennan. Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

Booth shrugged. "Whatever you say, sir."

Cullen studied him for a long moment, hoping his probing stare might prompt Booth to elaborate further. Booth stayed disappointingly silent. Cullen narrowed his eyes. He knew Booth was holding something back, but he was at a loss as to how to make him spill it. Finally he sighed. "That'll be all, Agent Booth."

Booth hastened to the door, but stopped with his hand on the knob and glanced back. "She really is the best at what she does, sir," he said softly. "Everyone sees that but you." With that he left, closing the door behind him.

&&&&&

Zach crouched by the remains, more nervous than he had ever been before in his life. This didn't even compare to the night he lost his virginity to Jenny Carson in the back of her dad's Chevy Malibu. And he hadn't been this nervous the first time Dr. Brennan let him process a crime scene on his own. At least then he'd been secure in the knowledge that she'd be there to help him if he faltered. This time she wasn't and the thought terrified him. He glanced up at Agent Thompson, who stood near his left shoulder waiting for him to _do_ something, _say_ something. Taking a deep, calming breath, Zach forced himself to focus on the job.

"The—the victim is female, sixteen to twenty-four. Cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma to the left parietal bone…" he droned on as the FBI agent took notes. His nerves left him as he became immersed in the details.

Nearly four hours later Agent Thompson's patience seemed to be at an end. Zach looked up to find him towering over him again.

"How much longer?" Agent Thompson asked impatiently.

"I'm almost finished. I just need a couple soil samples—"

"Are you sure you don't want us to dig up the whole burial site and bring it with us? I'm sure I could get a bobcat over here," the agent said sarcastically.

"No, that won't be necessary," Zach responded, completely missing the agent's tone. "But why would you want a bobcat? They aren't really known for their digging skills—"

Agent Thompson rolled his eyes. "Never mind. Just get this wrapped up, will ya?"

Zach frowned. "I'm sorry if you think this is taking too long, but I want to be sure to get all the evidence the scene can provide. If I rush I could miss something vital to solving the case. I would think that would be your highest priority—"

"Fine, fine, I'll be at the car when you're ready to go." Then he walked away, shaking his head over the scientist's overzealousness. Zach turned back to the site and resumed his work, already forgetting about the agent. Nothing was going to prevent him from doing his best on his first solo case.

&&&&

**I know, kinda lame, but I'm really struggling with Zach and the case. Please click the little blue button and make my muse happy so she'll help me with the next part.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Sorry this took so long, peeps. I want to thank all my faithful reviewers. You guys really make my little writer's heart sing.**

Secret No More

Chapter 16

The squints were working at their various stations on the platform. Each of them felt the absence of the missing member of the team keenly, but nobody said anything. There was no point.

"Jack, have you finished with the soil analysis yet?" Zach asked.

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. "For the third time, not yet. Give it a rest, okay?"

Angela darted a glance at him, smiling in sympathy. Zach was nervous about his first case and he was showing it by being uncharacteristically pushy.

Zach looked up from the skeleton he was examining. "You've had those samples for two days. I need your analysis in order to determine the interval since death."

"Look, Little Hitler, I could do without your nagging. If you don't cut it out, I'm gonna cut off the electricity to your apartment."

Zach straightened, frowning. "Why did you call me 'Little Hitler'?"

Hodgins rolled his eyes at Angela, swiveling in his chair to look at Zach. "You've been riding us constantly since we got this case. I'm tired of it."

"But Dr. Brennan always—"

"You're not Dr. Brennan!" Hodgins said between gritted teeth. "You're not in charge, but you seem to think you are."

"Well, if you didn't waste so much time flirting with Angela, maybe you'd get more work done," Zach said.

Hodgins' eyes went wide. "Why you little…I haven't been flirting with her any more than usual. And if you'll recall, I just started on the soil samples this morning. I did the bugs yesterday because you insisted on having those results first."

"Yes, and now I need the soil results—"

Angela smothered a groan. "Boys, boys, that's enough! Jeez, Bren's only been gone a couple days and you've been at each other's throats the whole time. Give it a rest, would ya?" Her gaze bounced from one to other as they both looked sheepish. "Now, can we try to get some work done?"

Zach nodded and bent over the table again. There was a long interval of blessed silence. Then: "Angela, have you finished putting in the tissue markers yet? I'd like to have an ID for Agent Thompson when he comes in this—"

"Don't start with me," Angela said in a dangerous tone. "I'd already be done if I didn't have to referee you two." Zach looked up in surprise. She never talked to him that way. He sighed. Dr. Brennan needed to come back soon, before someone got hurt, or worse, quit.

BBBBBBB

Brennan highlighted a whole section and hit delete, frustrated. Having a lot of time to work on her latest book had sounded great, in theory, but in reality, it wasn't going well at all. It would seem she was the kind of writer who worked best under a time constraint and she was having a hard time staying focused. Her mind kept wandering to speculation on what case Angela, Hodgins and Zach might be working on.

Hitting 'save', she stood and stretched. Maybe if she took a break and came back to it later she'd be able to come up with some fresh ideas. She noticed it was nearly noon and she felt her spirits rise. Booth had promised to come home for lunch. Hurrying to the kitchen, she took out the makings for a salad.

Booth came home as she was mixing the dressing. Dropping his phone and keys on the table by the door, he took off his jacket and tie and draped them over one of the dining room chairs. Coming up behind her, he slipped his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss on her neck.

Putting the salad tongs down, she turned in his arms and slid her arms up around his neck, pulling his head down to kiss him deeply. Groaning, his hands moved down to cup her behind, drawing her closer. She shivered as goosebumps raced up and down her back. He pulled back and her eyes opened to look up at him. He was watching her hungrily.

"Shall we eat?" she asked softly.

"Mmmm, I suppose we should get that out of the way," he said, a smile kicking up a corner of his mouth. "Then I think we should adjourn to the bedroom for dessert," he whispered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She playfully slugged his shoulder. "You're incorrigible. Is that the only reason you came home?" She started to struggle against the prison of his arms, but he wasn't letting go.

"Now, don't be getting all huffy. Can I help it if I find you irresistible?" he teased with a smile as he countered her attempts to get away.

"Uh-huh, right. And here I thought you loved me for my incredible mind," she said, only half teasing. A tiny nagging fear pushed at her—was it just the sex that kept him coming back? What happened when the newness wore off? Would he leave her?

He pulled her closer, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes and her struggles ceased as the warm tenderness in his eyes defused her pique. He kissed her softly. "I fell in love with the whole package," he confessed huskily. Her knees turned to jelly and her brain turned to mush as his lips brushed hers again. She groaned and pressed closer, deepening the kiss. When she remembered to breathe again she pulled back reluctantly.

"So, shall we eat? "she asked, smiling up at him, her face flushed.

Dropping his arms from around her, he gestured at the table. "Sure, I'm starved." _He_ didn't seem to be having mushy brain problems or breathing problems, or any other problems, she thought resentfully. They sat down to eat.

"How's the book coming?" he asked.

"It's not," she confessed. His eyebrows rose. "I'm having a hard time focusing. I don't think I'm cut out to be a full time writer."

Booth frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe you're trying too hard. Did you try doing something else? I mean, you're still consulting, aren't you?"

"Yes, I answered all my emails, but that only took a couple hours. Then I tried to write and the words just wouldn't come. I've never had such a hard time." Frustration laced her voice.

"Have you done all the research you need to do for the book?"

"Yes, it's all done, written on index cards and organized. That isn't the problem. It's the story itself that is giving me trouble.' She took another bite of salad, chewing thoughtfully, her eyes unfocused as she worried at the problem.

Booth touched her hand. "Hey, give yourself a break," he said gently. "This is new to you. It's going to take some time to adjust."

Her eyes came back to him and she smiled a bit, lips trembling. "I miss the lab," she confided, eyes shining with tears.

Lacing his fingers through hers, he squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I know, babe. Don't worry, I'm sure Cullen's gonna change his mind. It won't be long, I'm sure of it."

"I hope you're right," she said. She looked down at her salad, appetite suddenly gone. "Maybe I should go work on that mass grave Dr. Grant asked me about. A few months sifting through remains in Columbia should take my mind off things—"

"No!" Booth said a little more loudly than he intended. She stared at him with her mouth open in shock. Then her temper rose and she pulled her hand away.

Springing to her feet, she grabbed her plate and took it to the sink. "I was afraid of this," she said low, furiously scraping the remains of her salad into the garbage disposal. "Get involved with a man and he thinks he can make all your decisions for you." Dropping the plate into the sink, she turned on him. "Well, not this time!"

Booth sprang to his feet, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa, now just calm down, I didn't mean—"

"Don't tell me to calm down! You have a lot of nerve telling me I can't go—"

"I didn't say that!" he protested, desperately trying to defuse the situation. "You're putting words in my mouth. I just meant you should stop and think about this. Don't go off half cocked—"

"I don't know what that means, but if you think I haven't given this a lot of thought, you would be wrong! I've had days to think about this." Folding her arms across her chest, she regarded him grimly. "I think I should go."

Booth reached for her but thought better of it as she bristled. He put his hands in his pockets. "Please, promise me you won't go until you've talked to Angela. Please?"

Taking a deep breath, she stared at him for a long moment. His eyes were pleading with her and she felt her anger start to recede a bit. "Okay, I promise. But you have to promise me something. If I decide to go, promise me you won't try to stop me."

Booth closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He didn't want to promise, but he understood her need for independence. "Okay," he conceded softly. He wanted to take her in his arms, but her stiff posture hadn't relaxed much. He glanced at his watch. "Damn, I have to go. See you at dinner?" he asked hopefully.

"Don't worry, if I decide to go, it won't be for a couple days. There are arrangements that need to be made."

His heart sank. It sounded like she'd already decided to go. He hoped he could get Angela to talk her out of it. Picking up his jacket and tie, he went to the door. She followed him and stood awkwardly watching him. Moving slowly, giving her a chance to move away, he pulled her into his arms.

"I love you," he said solemnly, looking deep into her eyes.

Her heart melted. She couldn't resist him when he looked at her that way. Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him softly. "I love you, too. I'll see you later."

With a last look, he was gone. Closing the door behind him, she turned to lean against it, her emotions in turmoil. She didn't know what to do, but she had a feeling going to Columbia might be for the best.

BBBBBBB

**Okay, peeps, you know you want to click that little blue button and tell me what you think.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Here we go. Let me start by thanking all you wonderful readers who reviewed the last chapter. You are the best and you really did my heart good! This chapter is really smutterfluffy—let me know what you think.**

Secret No More

Chapter 17

Angela hung up the phone and jumped up, grabbing her coat and her bag. She'd never heard Booth sound so desperate before. She didn't know what was up with Brennan, but she was going to find out right away. She stopped by Hodgins' station.

"Sweetie, I have to go talk to Brennan. Cover for me with Zach?"

Hodgins looked up with a frown. "What's up?"

Angela sighed. "Trouble in paradise. She's threatening to go on a dig in Columbia and Booth is all in a lather." She dropped a kiss on his lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Hodgins watched her go, worried. If Brennan went to Columbia, what would happen if Cullen changed his mind? She wouldn't be around to resume her duties at the Jeffersonian. He sighed. Well, if anyone could change her mind, it would be his Ange.

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Brennan opened her door, surprised to find Angela there this early in the day. "Well, he didn't waste any time calling you," she commented wryly as Angela came in. Brennan sighed inwardly. Angela had a very determined look on her face.

"Look, sweetie, he's just worried." Angela watched her carefully, trying to gauge her friend's mood.

Brennan walked into the kitchen. "Coffee?" she asked, then poured two cups at Angela's nod. They sat down at the table and Brennan smiled crookedly at the probing look her friend was giving her. "Look, Dr. Grant emailed me. They found a mass grave in Columbia, at least 100 bodies, and they need every pair of hands they can get. I really think I should go." She hadn't been too keen on the idea at first, but the more she thought about it, the more it appealed to her. A few months of back breaking, intellectually absorbing work may be just what she needed.

Angela touched her hand. "I realize this has been a big change for you, Bren. But I'm not sure Columbia is the answer. Are you sure you're not just running away?" she asked gently.

Brennan shook her head. "No, I'm not running away," she said stubbornly. Angela just sat there, studying her. "Really, I'm not. They need me. And I'm not needed here," she said somewhat wistfully.

"Not true. Booth needs you. I need you. And Cullen could change his mind any day now," Angela said hopefully.

Brennan's lips firmed. "I can't sit around waiting for that to happen, Ange. It's driving me crazy."

"Work on your book. You always complained that you didn't have enough time for your writing."

Brennan sighed with frustration. "I tried, I really did, but it's not working. The words just aren't coming. I need activity or I'll go crazy."

Angela looked at her sympathetically. "Did you and Booth have a fight?"

Brennan straightened in her chair. "What? No!" Angela gave her a skeptical look. "Well, not until after I mentioned Columbia. He tried to tell me not to go!"

Angela controlled the urge to roll her eyes. "Sweetie, he loves you. He doesn't want you to go because he'll miss you. You know him well enough to know he wouldn't try to stop you from doing something you really want to do. Just make sure you're doing it for the right reasons."

Turning turned her coffee cup in her hands, she watched the liquid swirl. "I know all that and I have thought about it—a lot. Something is telling me to go," she finished softly, a small frown between her brows. She looked up at Angela. "I have to, for my own sake."

Angela reached over and squeezed her forearm. "Okay, then go. I'm sure Booth will be fine. Just make sure you take care of yourself and come back safely."

Brennan smiled. "I'm so glad you're my friend."

Angela smiled too. "Me too." She glanced at the clock. "Oh, I've got to go. Hopefully Zach hasn't noticed my absence yet. Who knew he could be such a slave driver?" She headed for the door with Brennan trailing after.

"Zach's in charge? Where's Cam?" Brennan asked, completely confused.

Angela chuckled. "Oh, she's still there, but Zach's handling his first solo case and he's a wreck. He's driving poor Hodgie nuts."

Brennan frowned. "Cam needs to step in and make him behave. Hodgins is his equal and he shouldn't be trying to push him around."

Angela smiled wryly. "Don't worry, I'm going to talk to her. It'll be fine." She hugged Brennan tightly. "Make it up with Booth, okay sweetie? You know what they say about make up sex," she teased.

Brennan looked puzzled. "No, I don't. What do they—" her eyes widened a bit as Angela smiled knowingly. "You know what, never mind. I get it." Angela suddenly hugged her tightly. "I'll see you later. Thank you," Brennan whispered.

Angela turned and opened the door. "Hey, that's what friends are for. I love you," she whispered.

Brennan felt tears in her eyes. "I love you too, Ange. You take care too." She waved as Angela walked away. Closing the door, she took a deep breath. One down, one to go. And she knew Booth was going to be a lot harder to convince.

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Booth got home a lot earlier than usual. Angela had been avoiding his calls all afternoon and he had a sinking feeling that was a bad sign. Dropping his keys and cell on the table by the door, he looked around.

"Bones?" he called out. 'Damn, Booth, way to alienate her. You know she hates that nickname.' "Temperance?" he said, walking into the kitchen. She was at the stove stirring a pot, the cordless phone cradled between her ear and shoulder. Without looking at him she held up a finger.

"Yeah, Monday morning. Really?" She sighed. "Okay, yeah, that'll have to work. Yes, one. Okay, thanks," she said, then shut the phone off and set it on the counter. "Why are you home so early?" she asked, giving the stuff she was stirring all of her attention.

Booth pulled off his tie, suddenly feeling severely underappreciated. "It's 5:30, really not that early. Is that a problem? 'Cuz I could leave, find someplace else to be for an hour or two if you really don't want me around." He couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice.

Putting down the spoon, she sighed and turned around, an indecipherable look on her face. "No, I'm sorry, you just took me by surprise I was trying to time dinner to be ready when you got home."

He approached her cautiously. She didn't seem mad any more, but something still felt off. "You've decided to go, haven't you?" At the pensive look she gave him he cussed under his breath. "Wait 'til I see Angela," he muttered.

Brennan nodded, eyes locked on his. "I need to, Booth. I'm not asking your permission, but in view of our relationship, I realize I owe you an explanation." Booth made a move toward her and she held up a hand to stop him. "Wait, please Booth, let me explain." He stopped and put his hands in his pockets. Brennan closed her eyes against the pain she could see in his face. "I miss the lab," she said, glancing away, "more than I ever thought I would," she confessed. "I miss the challenge and the camaraderie with Zach and Hodgins and Angela. I miss going out in the field with you. When they took all of that away, they took away a big piece of my life, an important piece." Her gaze came back to him and the pain he saw there squeezed his heart. "I need to go on this dig so I can get some of that back. And I want you to be okay with that, but I'll go whether you are or not," she finished firmly.

Booth sighed resignedly. "I understand," he said softly. "And I'll be okay with it. But don't ask me to be happy about it."

She smiled wryly. "I won't. It's actually kind of flattering that you're gonna miss me," she teased gently.

Booth shrugged, trying to make light of it. "Nah. Well, maybe a little. I've grown to like your cooking," he needled with a half cocked grin.

Her eyes flew open wide and she slugged him in the arm playfully. "Like it? I've half a mind not to feed you any more!"

He chuckled and grabbed her upper arms, dragging her close. The laughter died as he looked into her eyes and her proximity started to have the usual affect on him. His eyes dropped to her lips then bounced back up to her eyes. "I love you," he said like he'd never said it before. Her breath caught in her throat at the look he was giving her. He was playing dirty, she thought with dismay. He actually had her second guessing her decision to go. But her mind was made up. She was going, but for tonight she wanted to work on making some memories to store up for the lonely nights to come.

"Me too," she said in that husky, sexy voice that told him she wanted him to kiss her. With a low groan his lips met hers, sending his senses spinning as her lips immediately opened to him. Winding her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer until it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began and it still wasn't close enough. Sighing with frustration, she wedged her hands between them, working at his shirt buttons furiously. It was taking too long, so Booth grabbed the edges and ripped the shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere. Brennan gave a husky laugh as he shrugged the offending garment off and started tugging at hers. She stayed his hands.

"No wait, this is my favorite," she said with a smile, and took a step back. With a devilish gleam in her eyes, she started undoing her buttons, slowly. Booth's mouth went dry as her lovely skin was revealed to him inch by tantalizing inch. He gritted his teeth as his patience was strained to its limit. Fortunately for her favorite shirt, she ran out of buttons before he ran out of patience. As she undid the last one he reached out and slid his hands up her abdomen to the front clasp of her bra. With a deft move of his fingers he had it unfastened and he pushed it off along with her shirt. Pulling her up against him, he groaned as her soft skin met his and his senses were bombarded with incredible sensations from every contact point.

His mouth captured hers again and he started moving toward the bedroom, all the while working at removing other articles of clothing that were annoyingly in the way. His shoes ended up under the table, his belt was flung on the floor in the hallway, and her slacks tangled at her ankles and nearly caused her to collide with the bedroom doorjamb. Booth twisted them just in time to take the brunt of it with his shoulder, never breaking the kiss that was sending screaming messages along her nerve endings.

Finally arriving at the bedside, they were able to remove the rest of their clothing without any further injury. Falling to the bed, Booth rolled her under him and propped himself on his elbows so he could look at her in the dim light coming from the hallway. Her eyes were sparkling and there was a half smile on her lips.

"Are you okay?" she whispered huskily.

"God, yes, if I were any more okay, I'd die of bliss," he said, moving his hips slowly.

"No, I mean your shoulder, you hit it—"

Booth started trailing kisses along her jaw, headed for her earlobe. "Hmmm, don't worry about it," he murmured, nibbling her earlobe. Brennan started to probe his shoulder but totally forgot why she was doing it when his mouth found the sweet spot on her neck and her brain turned to mush. Suddenly aware of other wonderful things he was doing to her, she picked up the rhythm and went with it.

It was much later before she remembered his shoulder again. She was draped across him, tracing her fingers along his biceps. Pushing up, she frowned down at him. "You hurt your shoulder," she said. "Let me see."

He groaned. He really didn't want to move he was so content, but he could tell she wasn't going to let it go. He rolled over and turned on the light.

Brennan gasped at the bruise blooming on his left shoulder. "Wow. Are you sure that doesn't hurt?" she asked, reaching to probe it gently.

He flinched. "Ow! Now it does. Jeez, Bones!"

She pulled her hand away. "Sorry. I'm just surprised you didn't feel pain from it before—"

"I had other things going on," he said, rolling back over so she'd quit her examination. He pulled her back into his arms. "Don't worry about it."

She was quiet for a long time and he thought she'd drifted off, but he should have known better. "Booth?"

"Hmmm?" he grunted as he stroked her silky hair.

"I'm leaving Monday afternoon. Angela's taking me to the airport," she said quietly and his hand stilled.

Booth's mouth was grim as he stared up at the ceiling. "She doesn't need to. I'm sure I can take off for a couple hours—"

"I don't want to say goodbye in an airport, Booth. Please? Just trust me, it would be better that way." Her fingers were tracing his collarbone, then trailed up to his jaw. She leaned up on her elbow and looked down at him somberly. "But I do want you to pick me up when I come back," she said with a tender smile.

He lifted his head to kiss her lingeringly. "Nothing could keep me away," he said.

She smiled at him tenderly, then grinned saucily. "I see what Angela meant about make up sex," she said with a chuckle. "It's amazing."

He grinned, pleased with himself. "Why, thank you." He grew serious. "I am going to miss you," he confessed with a crack in his voice.

Propping her chin on her hand, she reached up to stroke his cheek with her other hand. "I'll miss you too."

Dinner burned as they spent the next few hours making memories.

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**I know, you don't want her to go, but I really think she would go, given the circumstances. But wasn't the smutterfluff lovely? Didn't that make it a bit better? Now won't you please click the blue button and let me know what you think?**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I know, I know, it's been a long time coming, but hey, I've got a life, you know? And it's not like this obsession of mine comes with a paycheck. Thanks once more to all my wonderful reviewers, I'm not going to list you guys, 'cuz I always forget someone. Suffice it to say, I really love you guys. Your reviews make all this toiling worthwhile.**

Secret No More

Chapter 18

Booth paced the waiting area at Gate 6B, impatiently waiting for her plane, which had been delayed, to land. She'd been gone eighty-six days, nineteen hours and forty two minutes and it had felt like twice that. She had only been able to call twice, once on her arrival and again on her day of departure to give him her flight information. The location of the dig had been in a very remote section of jungle and phone service had been impossible. The time in between those calls had been hell for him. Columbia wasn't the safest place to be traveling and he knew how reckless she could be sometimes. His mind kept conjuring all sorts of scenarios in which she was hurt or killed. But he was going to do his best not to let on just how bad it was. She wouldn't understand or appreciate his worrying.

"Ladies and gentlemen, flight 102 has arrived and is taxiing up to Gate 6B. Debarkation will begin in about ten minutes. Thank you."

Ten minutes. Booth stopped pacing and took a few deep, calming breaths. He didn't want her to see him this agitated. 'Calm down, Booth. Yeah, that's it,' he thought as he felt his breathing and respiration approach normal He stood at the end of the cordoned area, watching the jetway she would be coming down.

Finally groups of people started coming into sight and all the calming down went out the window. He scanned the groups anxiously, even though he knew she was traveling alone and therefore would probably be walking alone. Twenty, thirty, forty people went by and he started to get worried. Maybe she missed her flight?

She was the last one to debark. 'Why did she have to do that to me?' he wondered irritably, even as he looked her up and down. She looked great. Spotting him, she smiled tiredly and picked up her pace.

"Hi!" she said as she reached him. He wordlessly snatched her into his arms and stood there just holding her for a long moment. Finally he pulled away a little and kissed her with all the longing and worry of the last three months. She clutched at the back of his jacket as her head spun and her world tilted.

When he lifted his head at last, Brennan stood there with a dazed look and Booth smiled down at her. "Hi," he said when he found his voice. Brennan looked around surreptitiously, relieved that people seemed to be going on about their business and paying them no attention.

"Let's go get my bags," she said with a smile. He reached to take her carry on and was surprised when she let him. She was either really tired or the time away had mellowed her feminist tendencies. His lips twisted in amusement and he slanted a sidelong glance at her. 'Nah! Probably tired,' he thought, incredibly lighthearted now that she was home.

They were halfway home and she hadn't said much. Booth glanced over to find her asleep against the window. Smiling fondly, he turned the radio down a little. She'd need her little nap to recharge for later.

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"Hi, Angela," Brennan said.

"Sweetie! How are you? How was Columbia? Meet any hot guys?" Angela was firing the questions so quickly, Brennan only got the last one.

"Ange! I didn't go down there to date," Brennan said in a low voice, looking over her shoulder. Booth was putting the finishing touches on dinner. She smiled as his humming reached her ears.

"I know that. But that doesn't mean you didn't meet some hot Columbian dude—just 'cuz you met one doesn't mean you had to date him," Angela teased.

"I suppose a few of them could have been considered 'hot', but I was too busy to pay much attention. It was in the eighties with ninety percent humidity most of the time. And it rained a lot."

"Eww, sounds like you had a whole lot of bad hair days. Glad to be home?" she asked, then answered her own question. "Well, duh, what a dumb question. Bet Booth is just beside himself at having you home finally. You know, he really missed you."

Brennan broke into a smile as Booth started singing 'Come Together' as it played on the radio in the kitchen. "Yeah, I know. I missed him too," she said confessed softly.

"Well, I'm gonna let you get back to your gorgeous hunk. Tell him I said hi. Maybe we can get together sometime this week. Welcome back, Bren."

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"Did you work any interesting cases while I was gone?" Brennan asked as she dug into the penne pasta.

Booth shook his head. "Nah, not really. Pretty routine stuff. I wanna hear about Columbia." He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her.

"It was hot and sticky and I worked fourteen hour days with an occasional day off to wash laundry and do other domestic chores. We processed two hundred twelve bodies that had been shot and hacked with machetes and dumped haphazardly into a hole. There were some women and children among the victims and sometimes the only thing that kept me going was thinking about you," she finished softly, a deep sadness tingeing her voice.

Booth didn't know what to say to that, so he touched her hand. Turning her hand over, she threaded her fingers through his. "You would think after all these years of doing this job and seeing the horrible things people do to each other, I'd be better at handling it. I usually manage to process the evidence by distancing myself from the victim emotionally. But sometimes it only delays the reaction." Her voice cracked as she tried to express the deep sadness she felt.

Booth squeezed her fingers and her eyes met his. "Hey, you'd have to be a stone cold psychopath not to feel sad, especially when the victim is a child. One of the things I admire about you is the empathy you have for the victims. If you ever lose that, I think it'll be time for you to get out of this line of work. It's what drives you to solve the crime, to give a face and a name to the victim."

Pulling her hand back, she took a sip of her wine and took a deep cleansing breath. She smiled at him. "I know. It's just so—draining at times." She picked up her fork. "Can we talk about something more cheerful?"

Booth smiled too. "Sure. Shall I bore you with stories about Parker?"

Her eyes lit up. "That would be wonderful. What's he been up to?"

Without further ado, he launched into a long narrative about his son's latest escapades. She watched his face as she listened, mesmerized by the sparkle of pride in his eyes and the grin he wore any time he talked about his son.

"…and then he said 'but Daddy, if I eat dinner first, I may not be hungry for the ice cream.'" Booth chuckled. "Hard to argue with that logic. Anyway, we compromised. I let him eat the ice cream _with_ his dinner if he agreed to eat two bites of his dinner for every bite of ice cream. The little shyster tried to cheat by taking tiny forkfuls of his dinner, but I nipped that in the bud. Told him I'd take the dessert away altogether if he couldn't be fair. Then he rolled his eyes at me and said, 'Well, if you're gonna make me play fair, you're takin' all the fun out of it," Booth finished, still grinning.

Brennan laughed throatily. "I can't imagine where he gets his charm," she teased, earning an eye roll that was just like Parker's. Suddenly she yawned.

Booth straightened. "Here I am going on about Parker and you're sitting there exhausted. Why don't you go take a hot bath while I clean up?" Without waiting for a reply, he got up and started clearing plates and silverware. She went without argument.

Booth finished in the kitchen and went down the hall to the bathroom. After listening for a moment, he knocked softly. "Babe?" he called in a low voice. Nothing. Opening the door, he found her asleep in the tub, her hair piled on top of her head in a haphazard knot.

Smiling fondly, he tested the water. Lukewarm. Pulling the plug, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She stirred, then blinked up at him sleepily. "Hmmm? Oh, sorry, guess I dozed off…"

Picking up the towel, he opened it for her. His breath caught as she stood and water sluiced down her body. Locking his gaze on her face, he barely managed to keep his mind on wrapping the towel around her. The fact that she submitted without argument told him just how exhausted she was. It seemed his plans for the evening were going to have to wait until she'd had some rest.

Stepping out of the tub, she allowed him to guide her into the bedroom. He made her sit on the bed, then went got a nightgown out of the dresser. When he turned back to the bed, he found she'd slumped sideways. Gently pulling the towel from her body, he sat her back up. "Booth, wha—?" she mumbled, squinting up at him. He worked the gown over her head and she put her arms through the sleeves clumsily, sighing as he pulled it down. "Dressing me like a child," she mumbled with a soft smile. "You're so good to me."

"I couldn't let you sleep in the tub, honey. Now, hold onto me, I'm gonna pull back the covers."

She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and he pulled her up, turning back the covers. Leaning down, he eased her onto the pillow. Her arms tightened as he tried to straighten and he looked into her face to find her eyes focused on his mouth. Then they slid up to meet his eyes. "I love you, Booth. Did I tell you that today?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I think ya did, but I'm not tired of hearing it. I love you too. Now, lay back so I can cover you up."

She did as he said, watching him drowsily as he drew the covers up. He bent to kiss her, intending to keep it brief, but her lips opened sweetly and his best intentions fled. She moaned and her arms slipped around his neck, clutching him. Booth's head spun as her tongue tangled with his languidly. 'God, she feels good,' he thought, pushed to the edge of his self control. Then her arms slackened their hold and fell to the bed and he knew she was asleep. Dropping one last tender kiss on her lips, he straightened and pulled the covers up to her neck. There would be time later. For now, his Bones needed her sleep. His lips twisted wryly. She'd be mad if she knew he still thought of her as Bones. He'd just have to make sure she never found out.

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**There you go, nice and long and fluffy. No, I've done my part, so you do yours, please.**


	19. Chapter 19

Secret No More

Chapter 19

She came awake slowly, gradually taking in her surroundings. The room was still pretty dark, so it was early. Squinting at the clock on the nightstand, she saw it was only 3 a.m. Booth was plastered to her back from her shoulders to her feet and his arm was around her waist, his hand tucked just below her breast. His breath was stirring the hair near her ear and she shivered as goosebumps raced down her arms.

Suddenly his arm tensed and his hand moved up to cup her breast, his thumb moving across the nipple and sending pleasurable sensations screaming along her nerves. She shifted, pushing her hips into the hard ridge behind her. He groaned deeply and found her ear with his lips, nibbling down the edge of it until he reached her earlobe.

Her right hand reached back and found his hip and she pulled him closer, but it still wasn't close enough. Turning over, she stretched her body until they were flush against each other, face to face. His eyes, slumberous with desire, glinted in the dim light. Slipping her hand up his chest to hook around his neck, she pulled his head in for the kiss she'd been wanting since she first woke. Moaning as his lips opened and his tongue slipped into her mouth, she strained closer to him, thrilling to the feel of him against her. Her world shifted as he rolled her under himself, propped on his elbows. His lips moved to her jaw and trailed kisses to her temple.

Her nightgown definitely had to go and she started struggling to pull it up and over her head. Chuckling a little at her apparent desperation to be rid of it, he leaned up on one elbow and helped her. When it was finally gone, he settled back over her and they both groaned at the pleasure of being skin to skin at last. His eyes locked on hers and her breath caught at the desire smoldering there. Leaning up, her lips caught at his, tender and demanding at the same time. His hips moved to join them and their breathing picked up as they strove toward the bliss that was waiting, just out of reach. His hands framed her face and his eyes locked with hers as they moved together flawlessly. When her moment came he saw it in the look of wonder that came over her lovely face and he leaned down to kiss her again as he let himself go.

He was smashing her into the mattress, but she welcomed his weight, reveling in the incredible shock waves that were coursing through her body. As the last one faded, he rolled them as one and kept her close with an arm across her back. She rubbed her cheek on his chest, listening to the thundering of his heart, almost purring with contentment. His free hand came up to stoke her hair where it flowed across his chest.

He was the first to break the contented silence. "I love you," he whispered huskily, and she looked up to find him looking at her tenderly.

She smiled, her heart doing a funny little skip of happiness. "I love you more," she countered saucily.

His lips twitched. "I doubt that," he said, knowing he was starting something. But she was much too content to take the bait.

Taking a deep breath, she stretched languidly. "You should probably get some more sleep," she said regretfully. "You'll have to get up for work soon."

He grunted. "Nope. Got the day off," he said smugly.

She leaned up on her elbow, looking at him in surprise and delight. "Really?" At his nod, her happiness was complete. That meant they could spend the day however they chose, together. She couldn't think of anything better. She lay back down and snuggled back up to him and was asleep in seconds. Booth lay awake awhile longer, enjoying the feel of her back in his arms where she belonged.

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She met Angela at the diner on Wednesday. They sat opposite each other in their usual booth, and Brennan braced herself for a report on the doings at the lab.

"I love Zach, you know that, Bren, but he just isn't cut out for this. His lack of social skills is a big handicap. And he's got a confidence problem. We've gone through four agents since you left."

Brennan frowned as she grabbed a french fry doused with ketchup. "That doesn't make sense. Zach's the most capable, brilliant scientist I know."

Angela touched her arm. "He's used to having you to fall back on. Without that safety net, he keeps second guessing himself. It's very frustrating."

"Well, has Cam talked to him? Maybe he's not aware he's doing it," Brennan pointed out, snagging another fry from the plate between them.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Several times. He can't seem to help himself. And if he's not irritating them by taking forever to come back with results, he's alienating them by asking awkward questions about women and sex. Or insulting their favorite sports teams. I'm telling you, sweetie, I think Cullen's ready to throw in the towel," she finished with a grin.

"Throw in the towel? You mean give in? Reinstate Booth as liaison?" Angela nodded at each question and Brennan's spirits lifted and she grinned. "Wait til I tell Booth," she said, then she frowned. "Wait a minute, why didn't Booth mention this?"

"When has the poor guy had time? Besides, he's probably just so ecstatic to have you home, he just hasn't gotten around to it."

Brennan was still frowning. "We were together all day yesterday. He could have mentioned it."

Angela shrugged. "Maybe he wanted to surprise you. Regardless, you are home free. Give it a few more days and Cullen will be summoning you two for a little sit down in his office."

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Angela was proved right. Monday morning her phone rang as she was booting up her laptop at the kitchen table.

"Brennan," she said absently as she typed in her password.

"Dr. Brennan, this is Deputy Director Cullen."

She straightened in her chair, heart suddenly racing. "Yes?"

"Would you be able to meet with me in my office in say, an hour?"

Her lips twisted as she suppressed the urge to crow. "Sure, I'll be there."

He hung up and she sat staring in the distance. The day had come. Shutting her computer down, she rushed to get ready. Couldn't very well show up in the sweats she was wearing. By the same token, she wasn't going to get all dressed up either.

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"Come in," Cullen called at her firm knock.

Brennan went in and stopped in surprise when she saw Booth sitting in front of Cullen's desk. He smiled and she knew everything was going to be just fine.

"Have a seat, Dr. Brennan," Cullen said, his face a neutral mask. She sat down and folded her hands in her lap to stop herself from reaching for Booth's hand. She kept her eyes focused on Cullen's face, intensely aware of Booth's presence beside her.

"Dr. Brennan, I have a problem." She opened her mouth to say something, but Cullen held up a hand. "Let me finish. The problem is, Dr. Addy may be brilliant, but he isn't you. And we've tried a whole bunch of different agents, but none of them has that particular quality that Booth has that enables him to work with you squints so well." He sighed and look back and forth between them. "So I'm asking you if you'd be willing to come back if I reassign Booth as liaison to the Jeffersonian."

Brennan stifled the urge to grin like an idiot, managing to keep it to a tight smile, mainly because she didn't look at Booth. "I thought you'd never ask, Director Cullen."

Cullen pinned them both with a stern look. "There are conditions," he said ominously. "First, there will be no public displays of affection. You must maintain a professional demeanor at all times." Brennan and Booth exchanged looks, unaccountably embarrassed. He cleared his throat to get their attention again. "Second, in the event of a crisis in which one of you has been kidnapped or targeted by some low-life or injured in any way, the other partner will excuse themselves from the handling of the situation. No exceptions, no arguments. Am I clear?" His voice had steadily risen through the second part, so Brennan guessed he felt strongly about it.

Booth cleared his throat. "Sir, what would the consequences be if we were to—violate either of those conditions?" he asked hesitantly.

Cullen suddenly looked weary. "Try it and you'll find out. You're on probation, six months. Now, get out of here."

As one, they got up to leave. At the door Brennan looked back at Cullen. "Thank you, Director Cullen. You won't be sorry," she assured him with a smile.

"See that I'm not," he warned. They left, closing the door quietly. Cullen rubbed his eyes and put on his reading glasses. He hoped he hadn't just made a mistake.

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**One more chapter to go! Please R&R.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Here it is, final chapter of this baby. I want all my reviewers to know, I appreciate every one of you more than you will ever know. You've been the reason I've been able to keep going. Let me know what you think.**

Secret No More

Chapter 20

Brennan usually had no problem keeping up with Booth, but after leaving Cullen's office he was moving faster than she'd ever seen him move in a non-emergency situation. At least, she didn't think there was any emergency. How could there be? They had just gotten the best news imaginable, news they had been hoping for for months. She was completely mystified. Maybe his gut was telling him there was some kind of danger? But how could that be since they were still in the Hoover building? What kind of danger could there be here? She fell behind a little as she looked around curiously and he came back for her, grabbing her hand like she was a wayward child. People were staring and she smiled at them uncertainly as they passed them.

Waiting for the elevator with three other people, Booth was twitchy, looking around, smiling absently at everyone, but studiously avoiding eye contact with her. She rolled her eyes. What was his problem? She sighed and then the elevator arrived and they all got in. Booth's agitation increased until it was a palpable presence and their fellow passengers began sliding him sidelong glances.

"Would you stop that, Booth?" she whispered.

He looked at her for the first time since leaving his supervisor's office. "What?" he asked, frowning.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Fidgeting," she said between clenched teeth.

"I'm not fidgeting," he denied, shifting from foot to foot. Thankfully they arrived at the lobby and everyone exited the elevator. Booth grabbed her hand and headed for the parking structure. When they reached the SUV, he suddenly snatched her into his arms. She clutched at his shoulders as he hugged her tightly.

They stood that way for a long moment, and when he pulled back, she looked up at him. "Booth, what—" she began, puzzled. His lips cut off her question, and her mind reeled as he kissed her deeply. He was breathing heavily when they finally broke apart a little.

"I wanted to do that in Cullen's office," he confessed hoarsely, and she raised her brows. "I think that would have been considered unprofessional," he said with a wry smile.

She laughed huskily. "Yes. Is that why you practically dragged me out of there?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to control myself."

"I see. Well, technically, we're still in the building," she teased, still high on their triumph. They had won!

He looked around. "Not really. The parking structure isn't technically IN the building, it's more UNDER it," he corrected. "Besides, we're not on the clock." Setting her away from himself, he unlocked the SUV and opened the passenger door for her.

Cocking an eyebrow at him, she folded her arms. "I drove my own car, remember?" His disappointment was almost comical. "You don't have time for a nooner," she reproved primly, using the term she'd learned from Angela. "Don't you have to get back to work?"

He closed the car door, resisting the urge to slam it. Damn, he hated it when she was right. "Yeah," he said reluctantly. He kissed her again briefly and squeezed her hand. "See ya later."

Smiling as she walked to her car, she pulled out her cell.

"Sweetie! How'd it go?" Angela said without preamble. Brennan gave her brief synopsis of their meeting. Brennan pulled the phone away from her ear as Angela squealed.

"It's about time!" she declared, beside herself with excitement. "We've got to get everyone together to celebrate. Tonight. I'll tell everyone we're meeting at Wong Foo's. Seven okay with you two?"

"We'll be there. Bye, Ange."

"Great, see ya then," Angela said, her huge smile evident in her voice. "Tell Booth he's gonna get a big hug when I see him." Brennan ended the call, still grinning. She couldn't seem to stop, she was so happy. For the first time in a long time, she was looking forward to Monday morning.

BBBBBBBB

Everyone was already there when Booth and Brennan arrived at Wong Foo's and there was a ragged chorus of cheers as they walked in. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged all around and drinks were poured and toasts were proposed and speeches given. Brennan couldn't seem to stop smiling and Booth kept catching her eye and winking, making her laugh.

Angela was able to pull her aside for a brief private chat. "So, you two are good?" she asked with a sly smile.

Brennan smiled, looking over at Booth where he was talking to Cam. "Yeah, more than good." She looked at Angela. "I never thought I could love someone so much."

Angela's eyes softened. "He's crazy about you, anyone can see that. I hope you know how lucky you are."

Brennan's look turned thoughtful. "Yeah, I do. He's an amazing guy." He glanced over and winked at her again and she grinned back, her heart full.

BBBBBB

Of course, there was never any question that she'd get her job back. Brennan walked in early Monday morning with her box of belongings. Her office was exactly as she'd left it months ago and it only took a couple hours to put everything back in its place. By the time Angela waltzed into her office just before eight it was like she'd never left.

Angela rushed over and hugged her behind her desk. "Welcome back, sweetie! Do ya need anything?"

Brennan clutched at her friend, speechless for a moment. When they pulled apart, they both had tears in their eyes. Brennan chuckled huskily. "No, Ange, I've got everything I need. It's wonderful to be back."

"Dr. Brennan, welcome back," Zach said from the door. "When you have a chance, I could use your help up on the platform."

Angela squeezed her arm. "I'll see you later. I have some stuff I need to do in my office."

Angela gave Zach, who was still standing awkwardly just inside the door, an encouraging smile. Brennan sat down behind her desk again, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "Listen, Zach, I'm sorry things didn't work out with you and the FBI—"

"Don't apologize, Dr. Brennan." He stepped closer to her desk and, after looking over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, whispered, "I did it on purpose."

Brennan frowned. "You what?" He smiled at her smugly, nodding. "Why would you do that?" she asked, confused.

He continued to whisper. "I wanted you and Booth back and I figured if I made things as difficult as I could, Cullen would have to bring you back. And I was right!" he finished with a triumphant grin.

Brennan smiled, then put on a stern face. "Zach, you shouldn't have done that. Do you know what kind of risk you took? You could have been fired!"

"No way, Dr. Brennan. I was sure they'd never do that. Where were they going to find another forensic anthropologist?" he asked, immensely pleased with himself.

Brennan's smile returned even bigger. "Well, thank you. That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

Zach's face became serious. "This place just wasn't the same without you and Booth," he said. "I'm so glad you're back." With that, he left and she sat back in her chair, happy to be back where she belonged.

BBBBBBBBBB

Brennan was bent over an exam table looking at the remains from Zach's most recent case. Zach was across from her.

"See these marks on the number three and four ribs?" Zach said, pointing with a gloved finger. "They're congruent with a stabbing, but not by a knife. Unless it was a very dull knife."

Brennan bent closer. "No, it was some other kind of weapon. Have you tried—"

The card reader beeped and Booth strode up onto the platform. "Bones, we've got a case," he began. "Hi, everybody," he said with a cocked grin as they all gave him a look.

Brennan sighed, pursing her lips. "I thought we agreed you weren't going to call me Bones anymore," she snipped.

Booth held up a finger. "Ah-ah, I promised not to call you Bones when we're _alone_. We aren't alone, so I get to call you Bones."

Angela put her hand on her hip. "You know, I'd rethink that if I were you, g-man. Remember who you go home to at the end of the day."

Hodgins grinned, shaking his head. "Yeah, man, for the sake of domestic harmony, I'd definitely give it some serious thought. They have ways of making life miserable—ow!" he yelped as Angela poked him hard in the ribs. "See what I mean?" he moaned, rubbing his side.

Booth looked back at Brennan. "C'mon, admit it, you like it when I call you Bones," he coaxed.

She pursed her lips. "We'll talk about it later," she said between clenched teeth. Hodgins and Angela exchanged a look, then turned back to their stations. Seemed things were back to normal at Squint Central. And that's just the way they liked it.

THE END

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